Sour Grapes
by carla304
Summary: actors R/k story. When Kisten finds out that her boyfriend is cheating on her, she turns to her friends for comfort, and gets much more than expected. But things soon start to get messy, and she must face her actions before she loses everything.
1. Tattoo

Sour grapes

**Tattoo**

The hot LA air blew in through the car window, almost begging me to step outside and enjoy the day. But no, this was his day, and I knew how much he hated being outdoors, saying the heat gave him a headache. I also wasn't too keen to be within the public eye, because as soon as I was, it was more than likely that I would be instantly surrounded by paparazzi, all shouting at me, demanding questions that they (or anyone else for that matter) had any right to ask.

I sighed in exasperation and looked out the windshield, drumming my fingers impatiently against the steering wheel and silently urging the traffic to move faster. I looked down at the cake on the seat next to me, suddenly wondering if he even liked chocolate frosting. Crap. You go out with someone, love them, trust them for two whole years and yet you fail to have asked them on their confectionary preferences. Great.

As another gust of the hot wind stole through my window I suddenly realized that I was uncomfortably hot, and that this was unusual, as I had been living in LA, one of the hottest places in the continental US, since I was a little girl, and never once had I wished to turn up the aircon. I was a fan of the heat. And then it struck me; I was (very uncharacteristically) wearing a very tight fitting top under my blouse. Well, to be honest, it was more of a corset that I had picked up two days ago at Victoria's Secret (okay fine, Nikki had done it. _I _had taken one look at the pink frilly items on display in the windows and had shot off like a bullet from a gun) for the express purpose of "surprising" Michael on his birthday. Because recently, we hadn't been doing so great in that department, and I had seen him looking through one of the catalogues my agent had sent me to "inspire" my fashion sense, and had thought that perhaps he wanted me to put in a little more effort in the way I looked, even if he was just going to rip it off me anyway.

Finally the source of the traffic jam seemed to gain some sense and the cars started moving again. I got off the M1 and drove through Michael's neighborhood, thinking distantly that pretty soon I was going to have to furnish my own place, I mean, I couldn't keep living with my parents forever. I suppose that I could move in with Michael but… urgh! A strange shiver ran down my spine as I thought of that option, which puzzled me a bit, I wasn't scared of being with Michael, I'd stayed with him for two months when I was filming in Oregon, it was just the thought of living with him made me feel trapped in a way that I had never felt before. What did this mean? But I didn't want to think of that. No, it was probably because I was too attached to my family. Yes, that was the reason

I pulled up onto the asphalt, hoping that his very over enthusiastic neighbor wouldn't wash it again, and then try and bribe me into setting him up with Rob. I laughed, remembering the time he had realized that he lived next door to Kristen Stewart's boyfriend, and the first thing he had asked me was for Rob's telephone number. Yes, it was funny that even the male fans paid more attention to him rather than me. Not that I minded.

I climbed out the car, the hot air hit me with a blast, and I was glad that I would be losing the clothes pretty soon. I smiled, looking forward to seeing him, hoping he would like my gift. Just as I was crossing the road I heard the familiar noise that I had become so accustomed to over the past few months. Camera flashes. "Kristen, Kristen! What have you got there? Did you bake it yourself? C'mon show us that pretty smile of yours!"

I glared in his direction, thinking that the fans would create some story about how I was glaring because I thought I was above them. Let them think that. What I wouldn't give to _not_ have all the fuss. I didn't regret being apart of _Twilight_, not for one second, and I didn't even regret how successful it was. It was nice to know that my work was appreciated by _someone_, albeit 14 year old girls. As per usual, the paparazzi put me in a negative mood, and as I walked up the path I thought how stupid I was being. How did I even know he was here? It wasn't like he expected me… No, I was his girlfriend, and he loved me. He wouldn't disappoint me like that. Although I had told him I would be doing press this morning, but that had just been a set up for the surprise. Maybe he was mad, and had gone to Jerry's place… NO. He would be there.

Still, as I walked through the door, using the key he had given me on our year's anniversary, I was still doubtful. But as I set the keys on the table, I heard him moving around upstairs, and thought that he was probably still sleeping, the lazy pig, grinning at the thought of the way I was planning to wake him up. I tugged at the hair band in my hair letting it fall over my shoulders, and stripped off the blouse. I dug around in my bag, until I found the shoes that Nikki had borrowed me and shoved them on. I looked at myself in the hall mirror. Okay, I looked ridiculous, but other than that, the whole skinny-jeans-lacy-corset ensemble was pretty edgy, and paired with the spiky studded heels, I looked, well, sexy. I laughed at my reflection's expression at my vanity and climbed the stairs as quietly as possible. I was trembling with excitement at Michael's reaction to his girlfriend who he had only seen wearing dull colored sweaters since she was fourteen, come slinking into his room dressed as a stripper carrying a birthday cake. I walked to the room in the end of the hall and quietly opened the door.

I don't remember much from then on, other than stumbling over my heel and knocking my knee quite painfully on what I assumed was Michaels head. I was wrong. "Sorry," I stammered, stepping back, wondering if in my excitement if I had stumbled into the wrong house because a clearly naked girl sat up in the bed in front of me and pulled the sheet over her bare chest, which I noticed had a tattoo emblazoned on the lower half. Just then I saw a head emerge from the blankets, and it was looking at the girl, and he spoke,

"What's wrong babe. Or have you just co…"

He noticed my presence and turned, his face turning into a mask of horror.

_Michael. My boyfriend of two years, was lying in a bed, NAKED, with a girl and asking her if she had just come, which meant… no. impossible. _

"Krissy, baby, I can explain!"

I just looked at him.

"Er, you look gorgeous hun?"

I just looked at him. The naked girl who I thought had gone into a coma suddenly snapped out of it "You bastard! You told me you split up!" she got up off the bed and I noticed that the tattoo was of a bleeding, broken heart. Oh the irony. Holy crap, what in the name of hell was wrong with me. The man that I had given so much to, had loved for two years was cheating on me and all I could think about was the little tart's tattoo? Yeah, I was totally screwed over.

"Mi- how could you- when- I thought- why? I loved you. I trusted you. I FUCKING LOVED YOU! WHY?!!" I screamed at him, finally breaking out of the trance.

"Aw, come on baby! We both know you don't really care! You're just making a huge fuss over nothing!"

I just looked at him, partly because I couldn't believe that he could do his to me; pull out my heart and then trample all over it like it was some game. Partly because I was thinking where Nikki's heels would do the most damage.

"Oh, don't be that way it's my birthday! Hey, why don't we all forget about this and get back in bed?" He smiled suggestively, and I saw the tart's face contort with horror.

I think it was about then when I through the cake at him.

* * *

I stumbled through the door and felt the harsh light cutting into my eyes like a knife. I couldn't hear him following me. I crossed the path in a daze, and heard a strange clicking noise quite near by, hearing it increasing in speed. Maybe I was dying. Maybe it was my alarm clock warning me to wake up from the dream before it was too late. But deep down I knew this wasn't a dream, and it was already too late. The source of the clicking quickly became visible as the paparazzi, who was just about wetting his pants with excitement, while his assistant was practically screeching into her phone "Kristen Stewart has just emerged from boyfriend Michael Angaro's house in tears, appearing to have opted for a stripper look, with a tattered corset and spiky heels, hmm… obviously this morning's quickie didn't turn out too well!" Normally that kind of thing would have made me want to kick her, but I couldn't quite work that up right then.

I hastily climbed into the car and whipped out my cell phone dialing the number almost unconscious of what I was doing. The voice sounded on the other end.

"Wow, that was quick work girl. So tell me, how did it go? Did he do that thing where-"

"Nikki, there's something I need to tell you."

* * *

"A bar?"

"Kristen, you said you needed cheering up, and there's only two ways of dealing with a cheating bastard. Alcohol or sex. And as you obviously want me to be your cheer up buddy, it will have to be the former. Not that you're not an attractive young woman, but really, I don't-"

"Nikki! God, shut up, I think you just frightened that old lady! What I meant was, I can't go into a bar and drink alcohol!"

"Why not? We do it all the time at home" She replied, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. I stared up at the inoffensive building in front of us, at the rusting sign that stated that this was Sam's place, and that "there's to be no rowdy business".

"Because the press won't catch me at home and I'm already in enough crap with my publicist for the whole smoking thing. And besides, I'm not 21, they won't serve me here."

"Oh unclench, this is Sam's place-"

"I noticed." I said interrupting her and looking meaningfully at the sign. She paid no attention except to smile slightly and continued "-me and him go way back. Besides, this is the ghetto, any paps here aren't interested in you,"

And without further ado, she dragged me inside, and sat me firmly down on a bar stool that looked as though it had been attacked by a wet cat. There was also a strange smell mixed in the normal cigarettey-bar-air, a sort of fish-ish smell that was rather unpleasant and reminded me of my first boyfriend's bedroom. I wrinkled my nose at Nikki, but she just grimaced back at me and turned to the barman and ordered two vodka and limes. The barman, (Sam, I imagine) looked at me and raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything Nikki leant over the bar (even from here I could see her cleavage, and I'm not quite sure how she achieved that so quickly, as I had been sure that she had been wearing a closed top a few seconds before, which reminded me that I was still wearing my Victoria's Secret corset which made it look as though I had stuffed a pair of thermal underwear in each cup, I hadn't thought of grabbing my shirt as I had left Michael's house, and I shrank lower, trying inconspicuously to pull my top up) and slipped some money into his hand, whispering something in his ear, which I wasn't so sure I wanted to know about. He smiled and slipped the money away without saying anything and poured us the drinks, sliding them across the bar to her. She sat back smiling rather smugly at her achievement.

"Now," she said handing me the drink, "tell me exactly what happened, and what story we're going to tell the police when they find their bodies."

I choked slightly on my drink with laughter. This was exactly why I had brought Nikki with me. I swallowed and before I launched into the story, I took another sip. I don't recall my glass ever leaving my hand, or emptying.

* * *

"That bitch!" she cried indignantly, slopping vodka onto the counter.

"No, he's the bitch!" I said giggling as she tried to lick it off.

She shrieked with laughter and leant forward, "He's the bitch, and she's his little wolf!"

I leant forward too, my head crashing into hers and sending us into peals of laughter.

She let out a howl, as I cackled with laughter.

God Nikki was funny.

"Look girls I hate to spoil your fun, but you're making too much noise. Please leave my bar."

"Oooh, Sam you are being naughty! No more sex for you!!!" gasped Nikki as I clung onto her unable to stop laughing.

We stumbled out, holding onto each other, while Nikki let out a chorus of; "Alice, Alice. Who the fuck is Alice?"

"Oh my God, Nikki. You are so talented! We should so start a band!" I said grabbing some part of her.

"Ow! Your grabbing my tits!" she then turned to a young couple walking down the street and exclaimed, "I have a Kristen on my boobs!" at which I laughed so hard that I fell onto the ground, and caused the young man to smile, and the girl to lower her head and pull him along quickly.

"Get up!" Nikki laughed and pulled on my hand, which some how led to her falling on top of me laughing. Neither of us could move.

"Here girlies, let me help you." Said a young man – early twenties I guess – who then walked over and pulled me and Nikki up, but hanging onto me once I was standing.

"Steady there now, love. You look shattered. Why don't you come round my place and we can make you better."

I suddenly didn't feel like laughing anymore.

"No, I'm fine, please let me go." And I pushed at him slightly.

"Aw, don't be like that sugar," he said, pulling me closer.

I tried to pull away from him, but I was so confused, and seemed to be getting closer, I could smell his breath then, and it smelt of smoke and sweat, and (I'm not sure if this was my imagination) blood.

"Get the fuck off her you asshole!" said Nikki trying to pull me away.

"Oh, don't get upset. You can come too-"

"Please put her down." Said another voice, sounding soft and dangerous, very close behind my shoulder, I felt the owner's breath tickle my neck and I shivered. Because I recognized the voice, and I recognized the hand that was now gripping my arm below the man's. But I didn't do anything until the man let me go and stumbled away down the ally. I turned around slowly as a smile stretched over my face.

"Rob, you saved me!" and I leant forward to kiss him, feeling oddly giddy, but came into contact with something hard which turned out to be Nikki's shoulder. "Ouch, Kris, I don't need a love bite."

"Grrrrr" I replied and we both burst into peals of laughter again.

Rob merely raised his eyebrows and said, "I'll call a cab."

* * *

"Stop!" screeched Nikki. The cab driver crammed down the brake and we came to a abrupt halt in front of Nikki's house. As Rob helped her out the car, which was necessary as she was laughing so hard she was doubled over. He shuffled along with her to the front door and rang the bell. I hung out the window of the cab and giggled at them. Nikki snorted and preceded to attempt ringing the bell with her nose. Whether it worked or not, her boyfriend Tom opened the door and she collapsed into his arms!

"Tom! It's Tom!" I chorused.

"Thanks mate, I owe you," said Tom to Rob who smiled and waved him off with a _no problem._

Tom wriggled his fingers at me and I blushed and shouted, "I love you, Tom."

He just laughed and shut the door. Rob climbed back in the cab and turned to face me.

"Kristen. I think you should go home."

"Can't. My parents haven't seen me this drunk since my bar mitzvah." At which I snorted with laughter. Rob smiled in reply and said "Okay, then we'll take you to Michael's"

"NO!" I yelled.

"Why not? Oh wait, don't tell me there's trouble in paradise –"

"He's shagging a wolf!"

"Oh, well, uhm, okay then. Where do you want to go?"

"I can go stay at my place."

"Kristen, you don't have any furniture, and unless you wish to sleep on the carpet, you should come to my house."

"And what if I do want to sleep on the carpet," I challenged. God, I'm so witty.

"Well, you can sleep on my carpet, but I'd prefer if you didn't stay alone in this state."

"Awwwww! That's so-" but I never got to say what it was because the driver decided at that moment to shift the car into full gear and we lurched down the road, Rob clinging to the side rest looking terrified, and me cackling with laughter. We didn't speak much, due to the fantastic driving skills of our hired lunatic, who managed to find potholes in a perfectly smooth road.

Suddenly there was a bang and the car jolted slightly.

"Shit! I bust the wheel," cursed the driver.

"Don't worry, we'll walk from here," Rob replied politely.

"No!" I said indignantly slapping his stomach. It was much harder than I remembered. I pulled his shirt up slightly, and never the less, there chiseled into his stomach, was very clearly a six-pack. "W-o-w. Guess who's been working out. You sexy devil!"

I leant forward smelling on his breath a slight smell of oranges and smoke, not over powering like the alley man, but more in a comforting way. He pulled his shirt down blushing. "Ooh, I am going to make the sex with you here. Rawr!" The amused and slightly alarmed look on his face was almost comical, and I'm pretty sure I _would_ have ripped his clothes off then and there, had it not been for the driver saying "Seriously, chick, not in my taxi"

I turned and yelled at him, "Then don't look idiot! Keep your eyes on the road you perve!"

"Thanks for the ride," Rob muttered embarrassed, as he dragged me out the car, throwing a wad of notes at him.

He stared at the taxi as it drove away, and then turned to look at me. "Why are you staring at me Kristen?" he said, his eyes going all fuzzy and blurry, and he was so pretty. And his hair was shiny. And the stars were shining in his eyes and –

"Rob… I can't feel my legs,"

* * *

I remember collapsing onto him, and him carrying me for a while, and then I blacked out. I then remember him laying me down somewhere soft and saying something about "comfortable carpets" whatever that meant. Then he was gone, and the light fell away with him.

_I was walking along a passage, following the sound of a heartbeat. I had to find the room. On and on it went, the beat getting louder and faster, and just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, a door flew open beside me and I glided in. Rob stood in the center of the room, his hands clutching at his bare chest. Emblazoned on it, was a bleeding heart, which began to run down his midriff, and I realized with a jolt that the liquid was blood. He looked up at me and suddenly he wasn't Rob anymore, he was Michael…_


	2. Punishment

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own them, I was just bored in class and made this up, and ****was forced**** decided to put it up for all you luvli lambs to see!**

**Author's note: Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long, but my life has been pretty insane lately, but I won't bore you with the details. I just want to say beforehand, that there will be some Rob POV in this chapter, and I have never written from a guys POV before, for the basic reason, that I am actually female, and tend to run away screaming when hearing the words "what do guys think"… scary stuff… anyway, so if I got it wrong I am so sorry, but I just wrote kindof how I think they should think, blahblah. So don't judge too hard on that, but if it's terrible, tell me and I won't do it again :) So, without further ado, I give you: **

**Punishment**

I opened my eyes, and stared upwards at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering where I was, and how the hell I had got there. But as I tried to sit up, I felt a pain shoot through the top of my head which caused me to fall back in surprise. And it all came flooding back to me. _Nikki on the phone, Sam's place, the strange man in the alley, Rob giving us a lift home, all that vodka… _Ok, so that explained the headache, but it didn't help me as to where I was. I sat up, ignoring my headache and felt something poking me in the stomach. I looked down to see that a part of metal from the corset was the culprit. And then I remembered the thing that had been nagging in my mind the whole night. _Michael. _It was surprising how much pain a single word could bring. And then I remembered my dream, and the final part of the evening came creeping back into my mind, and despite the pain in my head, and the sinking in my heart, I ripped the covers off myself to examine what I was wearing. A corset and my panties. And on the floor next to the bed were my jeans, lying in a crumpled heap. Oh crap.

****

I stumbled out of the bedroom, and my heart relaxed, because Rob was lying on the couch (fully clothed) with his head hanging over the side, and blowing little bubbles in his sleep which, despite the current situation, I found quite adorable. But it calmed me as generally I didn't leave guys like that after I had had my way with them. Cringing internally at what I had said in the cab, I sauntered off into the bathroom to take a shower.

I stripped off the corset and threw it in the bin, hoping never to see it again and turned on the tap. The water shot out at a strange angle and hit me in the face with an icy blast. I yelped and leapt out of the way, and adjusted the nozzle from a safe distance. Faintly I heard movement in the lounge. The feeling of hot water calmed me down quickly, but the headache refused to go away, and eventually I gave up, sucked what little dignity I had left, and went to ask for some hangover tablets. Lucky for me, Rob was busy struggling with the little silver box, ****Author's note- ok, here (where I live) the most effective hangover tablets come in a silver box**** and I crossed the room and pried them from his large hands. "You're doing it wrong." I chided him, flipping the box over and undoing the clasp. He grunted in return. Ah yes, I remembered. He was useless in the morning without coffee. Another sweet trait that I had forgotten. I took out four pills and handed him two. Again, just a grunt. "Would you like me to make you some coffee?" I added after swallowing the pills. "Thanks." He murmured, flopping down on the couch.

"Oh my God, it can speak!" I said in mock astonishment.

"It can do a _lot_ of things after you give it caffeine." He retorted with a smile. I shrugged, defeated, and headed off to the kitchen, and spent a good fifteen minutes trying to work the coffee machine.

"You know that I could have walked to Starbucks in England in the time it took you to make that," he said as I entered the room, carrying two cups of steaming coffee.

"Start running," I muttered icily. It wasn't my fault that I had had it on sleep mode. I took a sip and enjoyed the feeling of the hot liquid running down my throat and sat down on the couch next to him. Rob drained the glass faster than I would have thought possible for someone who a moment before had been more or less catatonic. I stared at the blank TV screen in front of me pondering what I was going to do next. Again, that word popped up, _Michael, _but I pushed it away and turned to look at Rob. He was staring at me as if he wasn't really awake yet, with a sort of blurry confusion. All of a sudden his eyes focused on the bath robe I was wearing, and he raised his eyebrows. "Nice ensemble," was all he said though. I shoved him slightly. "Well, I was going to ask for some clothes, but you beat me to the punch."

"Weren't you wearing any?" he said, his voice questioned my sanity, but I detected the hidden sarcasm.

"Well, I don't know if you've been out and about in society lately, but generally a corset and underwear don't count as clothing."

"S'not what you thought last night, although you did have jeans on so I congratulate you." He laughed at me. Ass. Annoying, cutely-unshaven ass. I shoved him again with my shoulder this time. 'Um, yeah. About my jeans. Well, they were on the floor this morning, and I – well, I was only wearing, you know – so basically, did we, er, do anything?" I said blushing uncharacteristically.

"Well, after you fell asleep on me, we flew to Guatamahala, and got married to Britney Spears, and I do mean "we". You know that there three people are considered a couple and -"

"_Ro-ob!" _I whined, slightly desperate. He smiled and turned serious. "No, we didn't. To be honest I'm surprised _I_ didn't pass out before I got you up here. I guess you took your jeans off while you were asleep." He said looking down at the last bit.

_You idiot, why on earth did you ask him about your jeans, he's probably thinking you were nuts. _"So, anyway, clothes? Oh, and I'm quite hungry, so what food can I make?" I said.

He shook himself out of his reverie and looked up at me, smiling. "You can borrow a shirt. Top drawer on the left. Meantime, _I'll_ make breakfast."

I lifted myself off the couch and headed to his room, thinking that with his cooking skills, I might actually not be that hungry after all.

****

I entered the kitchen wearing a large top of his and my jeans, and wrinkled my nose at the smell of burning-something that filled the air. "So… breakfast?" I asked.

Scowling, he replied, "I burnt the toast," his tone implying that no more was to be said on the subject, and he slid a bowl of cereal across the table. Not much was said for quite a while, when suddenly he turned to me and asked, "So, may I ask why I found you stinking drunk outside a bar at God knows what time last night?" his tone was joking, but only someone who knew him as well as I did would detect that under it was something much less light. This was exactly the conversation that I had been trying to put off for as long as possible, and I wasn't quite sure if I could handle the situation without breaking down, but I knew that as long as I didn't think about it too much, then maybe I would never have to confront it. "Umm, Nikki knew I was upset, so she took me there to cheer me up."

But I knew that he would never let it go at that. "And what exactly did you need to be cheered up about?"

No, I couldn't handle this, I could feel it getting worse, building up inside me and I felt like I wanted to scream at him and run away, and at the same time tell him everything and have him hold me and tell me that it was all going to be okay, and that he would fix it, and that he could fix me. But I couldn't let either of those things happen. No, I was stronger than that. "Oh, you know, just some stuff," I said, looking down at my lap as his eyes suddenly turned serious and pitying, and I wanted to grab onto him even more, an irrational feeling. I shouldn't need anything to hold onto. I wasn't one of those girls whose worlds came crashing down when their "other halves" left. I was whole. I always had been. Michael had just been an extension, and I could get over that being pulled away. "Does it have anything to do with Michael?" he asked causing my head to snap up in surprise and retort in a much icier voice than was necessary for the conversation, "What on earth made you think that?"

"Well," he said looking down and fiddling with the hem on his shirt, "last night in the cab, you didn't want to go to his house, and if my memory holds correctly, you said that he was, "shagging a wolf" which generally would be a rather concerning matter."

I was panicking as the pain inside me lurched and threatened to over power me, so I laughed nervously, trying to feign sarcasm, "Well, you can't really judge a person's words when they're intoxicated, as I remember you proposing to me while under the influence, and that wasn't really –"

"You didn't answer my question," he replied simply, showing no reaction to my words except to pinken slightly at his ears.

"We had a fight, ok? It's nothing major, I'll get over it," I jabbered quickly, feeling the words melting together and losing their meaning as a roaring sound filled my head that had nothing to do with my recovering hangover. "Look, I've got to go. I have to go see my agent, and I have this audition today. So many things to do – my agent!" I practically screamed the last two words at him as he'd reached his hand towards my face, his face filled with sadness and caring, and I and jerked away, even though I had wanted to stay there in his kitchen, the safe place, forever and just have him look at me and assure me that I would always be okay.

I scrambled off the chair and stumbled into the lounge, grabbing my bag and walking over to the door. But he got there before me. "Kristen, stop. We're going to talk." And I knew that he wouldn't let me go otherwise, so I pulled every scrap of the little strength that I had left and looked into his piercingly blue eyes, and answered coldly, "God, Rob. Can you ever leave me alone?"

I wrenched the door open and crossed the hall, without him so much as breathing to stop me. But as I reached the stairs, I thought I heard him say in a very soft voice, that I was sure I wasn't meant to hear, "No." and he shut his door. One single sob broke through my chest, as I wondered why everything I cared about most was being torn away from me.

****

I stalked across the street, glaring at an outrageously dressed man asking me to take a picture with him. I walked over to a street vendor selling coffee, and ordered an extra large, thinking I was going to need a lot of caffeine to get through today. He handed me the change and the coffee, and as I turned away, I spotted something shining on the store display. Everything seemed to stand still for a second that seemed to go on forever, and then it all dropped past me, pulling me into darkness. Vaguely I remember the asphalt grazing my hands, and the cussing of the street vendor. The only clear things in that dark space were a voice calling my name far off in the distance, and the shiny cover of _Us Weekly_.

****

RPOV

I have never been a violent person. Even way back in kindergarten, when the other boys had stolen my toy cars and thrown them in the road to be crushed, I had stood my ground and kept quiet, whilst the other kids got into a vicious fight. They called me cowardly. My mom said it was a natural survival instinct. My first girlfriend said it was sheer stupidity. I disagreed with all of them. Sure, I was all of the things above, although I liked to think not, but I knew the real reason for my un-violent disposition; I had never had anything that I considered important enough to become violent for, and up until last night, I hadn't known that it had changed.

I had been out on a pretty normal night. I had gone to a bar that my friend had recommended, trying to will away the hours of boredom in LA. As I left the bar, (much earlier than I had hoped, this having less to do with my jetlag, and more to do with the over excitable "Twimoms" at the bar) I had heard the loud laughter of two very obviously drunk women. But I had recognized _her_ laughter immediately. It had been one of the most beautiful sounds in my world, and my very welcome companion on all those chilly nights in Oregon. _Kristen_. Just thinking that I was about to see her again made me happier than I had been in a long while, and suddenly LA seemed like the most beautiful place in the world. So submerged was I in thoughts, that I hadn't noticed that her laughter had stopped. I searched for the source of the distraction, when I saw him.

He was holding onto her, and I could see the way his dirty finger nails were digging into her arms, like he wanted to cut right through her. I barely noticed the other girl (who I later recognized as Nikki) as she tried fruitlessly to pull Kristen away. All I saw was that man, saw him leering at her and heard a small voice that I barely recognized as _hers_ say, "No, I'm fine, please let me go." And I closed the space in between us faster than I though possible, wanting nothing more than to cram his head through a wall. I don't remember the rest, as I was too angry and rather intoxicated myself to focus. But suddenly he was gone, and the small miracle was standing in front of me smiling. "Rob, you saved me!" She said rather breathlessly, and I watched her lean forward towards me, heard the whisper of her breath and felt my own kick up a notch.

"Ouch, Kris, I don't need a love bite." I heard Nikki reply as Kristen swayed off course at the last minute and latched onto her shoulder, and I was suddenly jolted back to reality, the hard reality that had bugged me for one, very long year. Michael. So I offered a lift home and arranged my features in a smile, as I had done all year.

Most of the rest of the evening was a blur, but at one stage in the cab after we had deposited Nikki at her boyfriend's house, everything came into focus again. The cab had jolted and the driver had told us that we had a burst tire.

"Don't worry, we'll walk from here," I had offered, thinking that it wasn't so far to walk. Kristen obviously disagreed, shouting "No!" at me and slapping my stomach. Her slight touch sent shivers up my spine. _Oh great, I'm turning into a little teenage virgin. _One touch and she has that effect on me. But she didn't stop. Something had seemed to surprise her, and she pulled my top up slightly, her warm fingers brushing my chest and doing strange things that weren't at all unpleasant to the rest of my body. But I had gotten used to this kind of thing over the past year, so I thought I could handle the situation quite well. But as she leaned towards me I could feel every nerve in my body preparing to accept her, despite my efforts. It was only when she said disjointedly: "Ooh, I am going to make the sex with you here. Rawr!" that I pulled myself together, knowing that it wasn't her talking, but the numerous glasses of vodka that I could smell on her breath which was still brushing across my face. The driver said something, and she turned and shouted back at him, and I hastily dragged her out the cab before I could do any thing really stupid.

Unfortunately, she seemed determined to undermine my self control, because just as the taxi drove away, she collapsed onto me, and was incapable of walking. So I picked her up, ignoring the pain in my back (another thing that I had learnt to control that year) and started the walk to my flat. She was awake for a while, and she stared rather dazedly into my eyes, and whenever I looked at her she would smile, and I felt as if someone was punishing me, as that smile made me wish for things that I had long since closed my mind to, but still it was a sad expression, and she shivered as if cold, so I pulled her closer to my chest in the hopes of protecting her from whatever was making her like that. She smiled again closing her eyes and rested her soft cheek against my neck, her breath burning my skin, sending shivers down my spine, and I wanted to hold her closer, even though she was pressed as tightly against me that I could manage without hurting her. And it wasn't enough. She sighed and mumbled slightly, and I realized that she was talking to me, and tried to hear what she was saying, instead of noticing how the tight black material of the corset that she was wearing was riding up, showing the white skin above her hips, and how low the neckline of it was stretching lower and lower as she pressed against me. Yes, I was definitely being punished.

Finally, after I had struggled up the stairs and into my flat, I carried her into my bedroom and placed her on the bed. But as I tried to get up, her hands gripped tightly on my shirt and she held me there with surprising strength for her size. "Rob, could you please take my shoes off, they're killing me." She whispered, clearly half asleep.

I swallowed, and lifted her leg up by the calf, undoing the buckle on the shoe, and pulling it off as gently as I could. Her foot was covered in blisters, and I wondered for the thousandth time why girls insisted on wearing them. I rubbed her foot gently and she smiled, her eyes closed. Once I had removed the other shoe I stood up to leave. "Stop." She said faintly. I turned, not able to resist her anything. "Rob, um, sorry, but could you take off my jeans?" She smiled at the last bit, and her eyes fluttered open slightly, "You know I wouldn't ask, but they're so tight."

So _she _was trying to punish me. I stood there, not making a move. "Please?" she said in a voice so soft I almost couldn't hear it.

How could I disobey that voice, especially when I wanted to do what it asked?

I bent down over her, my hands shaking, and undid the button of her jeans and pulled down the zip, trying hard not to touch her skin. I pulled the denim off her legs and then rolled it down off her ankles, so as not to jostle her, and then I gently stroked the skin from her thigh right down to her ankle, lightly brushing the skin with my finger tips. "Rob–" she said dizzily, trying to sit up, struggling to look at me.

"Shh, go back to sleep," I answered, watching her flop back down with exhaustion. I lifted her up once more and shifted the blanket over, putting her down and covering her with it. I leant forward and pressed my lips to the corner of hers and her mouth opened slightly in a smile., her breath brushing across my lips, so close that I could taste it.

Punishment.

I stood up slowly and reluctantly and turned to leave the room, when she cried, "Rob, don't leave me!" But I closed the door. I realized now, that I couldn't take the punishment any more.

****

I stood in the shower not really feeling the water hitting me, thinking of all the mistakes that I had made last night and this morning, wondering what had happened to make her look so helpless, and most of all, thinking of the words she had spoken as she had walked out the door. She would never care for me the way I did for her.

My phone ringing pulled me out of my reverie, and I switched off the shower, pulling my clothes on as I dashed to get it. It was Nikki, sounding rather frantic. "Rob, have you heard from Kristen? Oh, I'm so worried, I shouldn't-"

"Calm down, Nikki" I said soothingly, "she stayed over here last night."

"Oh thank god!" she gushed.

"Why? Were you worried something had happened to her? You know she can take care of herself," most of the time, I added silently, thinking of the jeans episode.

"It's not that. I'm worried she'll do something stupid," she said crossly.

"Why would she do that?"

Pause.

She answered in a soft voice, "She didn't tell you about Michael?"

"What, are you referring to him and some unfortunate wolf," I said calmly, but I was starting to get anxious.

She snorted, "Oh, god, I forgot about that. But no, they broke up. But I think she'll be okay, as long as she's with you-"

I had dropped the phone and was running for the door.

****

I didn't have to look far. About halfway down my road, by the coffee vendor, she was sitting crumpled on the ground staring at something while the vendor was shouting and swearing at her for spilling coffee all over his newsstand. She didn't seem to notice. I called out to her, but she didn't react. As I got closer, I became worried.

"What the hell did you do to her?" I yelled at the vendor.

"I didn't do anything. She ordered a coffee, I gave her the change and the cup. And then she looks into the newsstand and falls on the floor, spilling coffee everywhere. Then she goes into this fucking coma, and I-"

But I had stopped listening. Because I had seen the tabloid cover.

_Michael Angarano, boyfriend of "_Twilight's_" Kristen Stewart, was seen yesterday making-out with pretty blonde girl outside house, when asked for Kristen's knowledge on the affair, he said, "What the f--k makes you think I care. _

And under it was a picture of the couple doing exactly as said.

Yes, I had never been I violent person. But that was because I hadn't had her.

****

KPOV

He ushered me into the quiet café, ordering two double espressos. I still couldn't think properly. Somehow he managed to get me into a booth, and then he pulled me up against him, putting his arm around me and stroking my hair. And I couldn't hold it in anymore. The pain came crashing down around me and I would have fallen right through the seat, had it not been for him holding me there, keeping my head above the water. I cried for god knows how long while he just sat there and stroked my hair. Eventually, the waitress came over and I sat up slightly, wiping my nose on my sleeve. He scooted slightly away to give me some space, but I moved closer to him and clung to his arm, not ready to let go. He hesitated, then wrapped it around me again and gave me a small squeeze. The waitress set the coffees down and smiled at me sympathetically. She had a round face that reminded me of mother figures always drawn in cartoons. "It's on the house, love. Saw it happen. So sorry. Worst way to find out. Can I gat you anything else?"

I laughed through my tears, thinking for once this fame thing had gotten me somewhere.

"No thanks," I replied.

"Well, you call me if you need anything. Men. They'll rip your heart out, but they can sow it back in again. But, you already know that," she said smiling and looking pointedly at Rob. I smiled back and she walked away.

I looked back up at him, and he was staring at me too, not as if he expected me to explode agin, but rather that he wished for my sake that he could stop it.

"Are you aright?" he asked, his voice slightly husky, surprising as I had been the one crying.

"I'm fine now," I said, but I looked down at my lap. _What if it happened again? What if next time he isn't with me? _

Almost as if he could read my mind he said, "You need to get away from all this," waving his hand out the window. "Away from LA, the press, the fans… Michael… All of it," the last bit came out a bit shaky.

The thought horrified me. Made me feel even more helpless. I couldn't be away from him now, couldn't he see that?

"I can't- I mean-" I stuttered dimly, trying to say what I meant so that he would understand. Suddenly his face fell.

"Oh, you can take Nikki, you don't have to take me," he said looking down at the table cloth, his hand dropping down my back, his fingers scraping the skin between my jeans and his shirt. I shivered, but for a different reason then. But I pushed that from my mind.

"No, Rob! That's not what I meant! I don't want to take Nikki! I don't want to take anyone, but- you know…" I trailed off lamely trying to get my point across.

"Kristen, I'd rather you didn't go on your own. Not right now. Not like this," he said still looking at the table cloth until the end when his eyes darted up to meet mine and then they quickly fell to his lap.

I was getting very frustrated, I snapped at him, "I'll only go if you come with me!"

He looked up at me quickly with a strange curiosity, and something else that I hadn't seen before on his face, "What?"

Suddenly embarrassed at my outburst I looked down at the table cloth myself, "I want to go somewhere. Get away from it all. But I can't go alone. And I don't want to go with anyone, except you. I _need_ you to come with me, please."

I looked up, but before I could meet his gaze and figure out that strange emotion playing with his features, a group of squealing twelve year olds rushed our table and begged him for an autograph, scarcely noticing me.

"Yes," he said as he signed the last autograph, and put the pen away, "_we_ need to get away." He turned to look at me, and I realized what the expression was, and it made me strangely giddy to think about. _Hope_. He climbed out the booth not taking his eyes off mine, and I followed right behind as if hypnotized, not wanting to break the connection or move too far away from him. I looped my arm through his and held on tightly as he led me out the door and onto the street.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly, feeling something warm bubbling inside of me, the morning's horrors forgotten.

"We're going to see Kellan. He won some travel tickets that he's unable to use," he answered back, pulling my arm so that I stood closer to him.

"Okay, but where are we _going?_ With the tickets I mean," I asked, suddenly very curious.

He laughed, his teeth shining in the sun. "You'll see."

**End notes: Ok, wow, that was epically long but anyway, PLEASE comment and tell me what you think, and I will send happy thoughts out for you :D Also, this has probably been one of the fluffiest things that I have ever written, and I was just trying to cheer myself up from my otherwise crappy day :( But thanks to everyone who commented and/or reviewed, and I'm so glad for the amount of hits I got, concidering this was my first shot at anything like this, so thanks!**


	3. Okay

**Author's note: Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken so long to update, you've probably forgotten who I am… but anyway, it's here now! Don't have much more to say, except that this chapter was very hard to write, for various reasons that I won't go into now. So enjoy, and please tell me what you think!**

_**Okay**_

He pulled me up the unfamiliar stairway, the material of his jacket chafing my wrist. I was torn between insane curiosity over where we would be going, and wondering if _I_ was going insane.

"Hurry up," he said; laughing as I gasped and I hobbled over what seemed the hundredth step.

"What's the rush?" I asked, feeling as though my chest was on fire. Maybe I was crazy. Should I really be running away at a time like this, when my life seemed to be crashing down at my knees? But even knowing this, I still felt excited and a little nervous about what I was doing.

Then of course there was the fact that I was kindof going on a romantic getaway with one of my best friends. But no, he _obviously _didn't think of me that way, and why would he. He probably just felt sorry for silly little Kristen, and worried that if I went alone, I would jump off a building or something stupid, and I couldn't exactly say he was wrong, as I was fairly sure that the only reason I hadn't fallen into a coma and been shipped off to a mental institution was because he was with me.

Now, I wasn't stupid. I could sense the direction in which my thoughts seemed to be going when I thought of this holiday, and knew that I wasn't just excited to be going to a new place, and seeing the sights. But this wasn't the first time that I had thought of him that way so I knew how to push aside those feelings. Except that last year I had a boyfriend, and last year I wasn't going on some mystery trip with him, where we would be totally alone, and we would be able to do new _things_ and say things we had never been able to say– But I couldn't finish that thought. Not when it involved leaving a huge dent in our friendship, and I wouldn't risk that. How could I even think that? It was probably just the excitement of going away, when I hadn't been on holiday for ages, and my out of control emotions from the incident. I pushed the thoughts from my mind and concentrated on trying to make it up the stars without passing out. When the hell had he gotten fitter than me?

Finally, when I thought it would never end, we stopped on the sixth floor, and he dragged me over to apartment 78. He knocked on the door, as I leant against the wall and tried to catch my breath.

He looked at me and smirked. "Wow, Stewart, were those stairs too much for those little legs of yours?"

Jerk. "It's called an elevator," was all I could find the breath to come up with, throwing him a glare, which only caused his smile to widen, showing more of his perfectly straight white teeth and causing a small dimple to rise on his left cheek.

"Well, would you have preferred me to carry you?" He said, still laughing.

_Yes._

"What?" he said, looking at me, the smile completely wiped from his face and a look of shock taking its place.

Oh crap. I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. But before I could mess things up even more, the door flew open to reveal Kellan holding a bowl of Cheerios, and his hair all flattened to one side as if he had just gotten out of bed.

"Who in the name of – oh, its you guys," he grumbled, putting the bowl of cereal down and mussing his hair, as if to make it look better.

"Always so welcoming," said Rob punching him on the shoulder, the male form of greeting and walking past him into the apartment.

"Well please come in," Kellan replied sarcastically, and, noticing me for the first time he smiled and grabbed me into an enormous hug. "Oh, didn't see you there Kris! Still tiny as ever!"

"Hey Kellan," I said awkwardly, pulling myself out of his arms and stepping round him into the apartment. Great, two jabs at my size in one morning. It got better every day.

"So, what's up?" said Kellan following me into the lounge where Rob had sat down on the couch and was staring at us expectantly.

"We were just wondering if you still had those tickets you won," Rob said, looking at Kellan with a curious expression on his face.

"Oh, you mean the ones I won with _Teen Vogue_ to –"

"Yes," replied Rob quickly, his eyes darting from Kellan's face to mine and back again. "_Those_ ones."

"Oh, yeah. I've still got them. Hang on, I'll go find them," he said, slouching off into the next room.

I stared at Rob, and he looked back at me, an annoyingly attractive smile playing at his lips. "You know I'm going to find out where we're going _eventually_," I snapped at him, looking away from his smug expression.

"I know, but I still want it to be a surprise," he said, his tone calm.

"But won't I need a Visa or something?" I said, trying to figure out where the hell he was whisking me off to.

"Trust me, it's all sorted out. All you need is your passport and some clothes," he said, suddenly seeming to remember something. "That reminds me. You don't have any of those." He stood up, walking to the door that led to an outside balcony, "I'm just calling your mom, she can pack your stuff for you," and with that, he stepped outside and shut the door before I could argue.

After about ten minutes, a great load of swearing and noises that sounded like furniture being overturned, Kellan came striding in with the two tickets in hand with a triumphant look on his face.

"I've got them," he said, to no one in particular. I got up to retrieve them, but before I could even set a foot foreword, Rob had somehow silently snuck in and he snatched the tickets out of Kellan's outstretched hand, all the while still talking on the phone.

"Thanks, Jules, we'll come pick them up in about half an hour," he said into the phone, before snapping it shut. "Your mom has packed your stuff, and she found your passport," he looked down and checked the tickets, "and the flight is only late this afternoon, so we'll have plenty of time to get all your stuff, and I can get packed," he smiled at me and I couldn't help smiling back, feeling the excitement brimming over again. Kellan, who had stopped fiddling around with his hair, suddenly looked at Rob and then at me, and then back at Rob, as an I've-been-hit-over-the-head-with-information look passed over his face which was quickly replaced with a smug smirk. "Soooo… You guys going away together… that's, er, real cheery," he said, barely containing his obvious glee over his breakthrough, "I personally am so happy about this. Always rooting for you crazy kids. And Kristen, you little slut! I heard about Michael. Boy do you move fast. But I'm sure that that's Rob's problem now –"

"As usual, you show a surprising lack of tact," said Rob glaring at Kellan, as I looked down at my lap, trying not to let his words affect me. _He's just being funny, you know he doesn't know any better, it's the way he is._ I still wanted to hit him. Or maybe just throw the bowl of cheerios. _That _would give him something to laugh about.

"Sorry, Kris," he said, his tone turning apologetic. He walked over to me and gave my shoulder a squeeze, and I caught the scent washing off him, of cereal and aftershave, a strange contrast to Rob's citrus-y tobacco. And not nearly as comforting. But good enough for me to hug him back.

"No problem," I said looking up at him smiling, even though what I really felt like doing was running out of the room and never turning back.

"Well, as lovely as this has been, I think we need to go," said Rob, standing up suddenly, and striding towards the front door.

"Come on," said Kellan, lifting me up into a standing position and walking me to the door with his arm still around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and then let me go, and I immediately grabbed onto Rob for support, taking in his scent with relief, and instantly the world stopped spinning and I could breath properly again. I tried not to think why that was. Because it was impossible. I shivered and he gave my waist a squeeze, pulling me closer to him, so that my hip was resting against his thigh. Impossible.

"Bye, you two! Enjoy your, um, trip," said Kellan, smirking suggestively towards the end and shutting the door before either of us could say anything.

"Well, that was uncomfortable," said Rob, breaking the silence. I laughed, not being able to help myself, feeling the hysteria growing inside and I laughed even louder, and before I knew it, I was crying again, and Rob was patting my arm and giving me a tissue.

"Really, what am I going to do with you?" he said, but I could tell he was just trying to cheer me up. I slapped his arm and refused the tissue with a small smile, wiping my face on my top.

"Let's go," I said, not able to look into his eyes, "I have no idea where the hell you're taking me, but I'm pretty sure that we don't want to miss the flight, which will very likely happen if we stop every time I flip out," I tried to make it a joke, but it came out all wrong, and my voice hitched at the end and came out all funny.

He said nothing, but nodded and started towards the stairs. "Are you sure you don't want me to carry you, or can those little stumps manage?" he said, his usual mocking tone back. I turned and stomped down the stairs ahead of him, jerking my arm out of his. I only heard his laughter following me.

****

"This way please," said the airhostess. She was wearing a bright pink uniform and smiling at me as if I had just asked her to marry me. It annoyed the crap out of me.

"We're flying in _business class_," I hissed into Rob's ear, having to stand on my toes. I tried to put as much venom as possible into those two words, as I would rather cling to the back of the plane than sit in one of those huge seats that a small person like me hardly needed, and be waited on like fucking Cleopatra. I hated being made a fuss of. Or maybe it was just because I was dreading being without cigarettes for 14 hours straight. Damn airline rules.

"Wow, clam down. I didn't ask you to swallow a tortoise or anything. It's just business class. Normal people would be overjoyed," he said, scowling slightly. We reached our seats, and I shoved my bag into the overhead locker, accidentally hitting some business man across the isle over the head, who preceded to swear at me under his breath in Italian even after I had apologized.

I flopped down in the window seat and tried to take up as little of the amazing amount of space as necessary. Rob sat down next to me, spreading out in the seat.

"You know, _Teen Zone_ will be pretty pissed when they find out that you weren't happy with their bookings. You could probably shut them down if you wanted to," he drabbled on for a while, making me slightly irritated, but I could tell that he was trying to distract me, and I was grateful, so I relaxed in the seat and decided to enjoy this as much as I could.

"I would just like to say, for the record, that that woman is smoking some incredible shit," he said, indicating the airhostess, who was just about wetting her pants with excitement as an old woman asked for help in adjusting her chair.

"Yeah, I would go ask her for some, but – oh wait, that's right! We can't smoke," I grumbled, but I couldn't put enough conviction into the last sentence as the seat was now giving me a massage, which even I had to admit, was pretty fantastic. Rob laughed at me as I slid down in the chair and shut my eyes, giving a sigh of contentment.

"I knew the chairs would break you," he said putting his arm around me and lightly brushing his fingers up and down my arm, causing it to feel as though he had set it on fire. Instinctively I curled closer to him and opened my eyes, looking up at his face. He was staring down at me, the smile gone from his face, and taken over by shock and that amazing hope again. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked into the gun-metal blue of his eyes, and forgot completely what we had been arguing about and even that we had been arguing. I reached over, unable to help myself, and gently stroked a small burn mark under his chin. I felt his breath shakily on my fingers and I looked back up into his eyes, and my breathing stopped all together, because he was looking at me in such a sad yearning way, that made me want to hold him close and tell him it would be okay, and also made my stomach churn and my toes and fingers go slightly numb. His hand moved to cover mine and he pressed it to his neck, and I felt the pulse of blood under his skin quicken. I had never wanted anything in my life as much as I wanted to kiss him then. His eyes flickered down to rest on my lips which had parted expectantly, and he began to lean towards me, the pulse on his neck increasing in speed.

"Champagne, or orange juice," said an annoyingly nasal voice, very close to my ear. I jerked away from him as if he had shocked me and stared into the face of the pink clad hostess. I couldn't speak. It felt as if my brain had frozen, and I didn't want to think about what I had just done. I _should _have ignored her.

"Two champagnes, please," said Rob's voice, sounding perfectly natural. She handed us the drinks and moved on. I hastily picked mine up and sipped it quickly, felling the bubbles burning my throat. I couldn't look at him. The captain began speaking overhead in a bad Mexican accent, welcoming us on board.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, looking down at my drink.

"It's okay," said Rob, his hand stroking my back, sending tingles all the way down to my legs. He stopped when I shivered again, and I wanted to tell him to carry on, but couldn't quite find my voice.

"It'll always be okay," he whispered so softly that I thought I hadn't heard it, but when I turned to look at him, he was smiling at me.

The captain droned on overhead. "We will be arriving in Roma, Italy, in precisely 13 hours and 28 minutes,"

"You're taking me to Italy," I said smiling. So _that's _why I hadn't needed a Visa. The producers had organized those for us at the beginning of the year, so that there wouldn't be any problems during filming. He smiled.

"Hope you like the pizza," he said, imitating a terrible Italian accent. I shoved him slightly and looked out the window as the plane picked up speed along the run way, watching all the houses and cars speed past at fantastic speeds, and as we lifted off, the feeling that I had left part of my insides behind, seeing all the buildings getting smaller and smaller, until I could no longer see details, and despite all that had just happened, I smiled as I left all my problems down on the ground in LA, and lifting higher into the air, Rob humming some annoying tune under his breath, knowing that it would all, somehow, "be okay".

****

"You have got to be kidding me," I said, staring at the in-flight magazine in front of me. "Seriously. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse!"

"What's wrong," said Rob, pulling his i-pod earphones from his ears. I jabbed a finger at the page showing the movies that would be playing on the overhead, "The movies playing tonight, will be _Hancock _and _Twilight!_ Urgh! Now everyone on this plane who doesn't already know who we are, will," I slapped him with it, annoyed that he wasn't the one making a fuss. "Hey, whatever happened to that, "I hate watching myself on screen… I have panic attacks…" crap? You should be the one freaking out!" I stared at him, demanding an answer. He laughed.

"Okay, for starters, I don't sound like that, and if you don't want to watch it, well then, er… oh yeah! Don't watch it," he replied. That wasn't the answer I was looking for. I kindof wanted him to scream and run into the cockpit and demand they play something else, threatening to kill them with a pen or whatever. Okay, I'd had too much champagne, but I really didn't have the strength to deal with judging my performance right now. And for some reason, I really didn't want to watch a movie where Rob and I would be lovin' each other up, especially since my emotions were so unstable that I had almost kissed him just now, and god only knows what _that_ would have done to our friendship. So yeah, I was a little upset about the whole thing.

"Fine, but can you _please_ just ask the airhostess not to play it," I begged, hating that I had to do it, but I couldn't face going up to her myself.

"If I must," he said sighing. Then a smile crept onto his face, "But I will demand payment for this. Taking your clothes off would be pretty good,"

"Get out, you perve!" I said, throwing my shoe and laughing at him. It hit the Italian business man across the isle, who was sleeping, and before he could pull off his eye mask I ducked down and feigned sleep, and Rob walked off to find the hostess. I heard him grumbling from across the isle and stuffed my hand in my mouth to stop from laughing. Suddenly I felt two hands on my shoulders pulling me roughly up. I whipped round grabbing his shoulders and gabbled quickly, "I'm sorry, it just flew off my foot," but it wasn't the business man. It was Rob. With his hands around my waist. And my hands were on his shoulders, suddenly pulling him closer before I had given them permission to, and my heart was beating so hard that I was sure everyone on the plane could hear it. But he pushed me away, softly, and set me down in my chair. But he was laughing, so I knew it was okay. _It was always okay._ I pulled myself out of my reverie and clicked my fingers to get his attention. I suddenly felt funny, like someone had hit me in the face, and his laughing was irritating me. _He had pushed me away._ Even though I knew that he had done the right thing, and that he had done it for our friendship, I still felt it, and suddenly, the truth hit me. He didn't think of me that way. He had pushed me away, because he didn't want me to come any closer. And earlier, he had said it was okay that I had almost kissed him. My stomach sank through the floor, and it felt as though it was falling back down to earth. Why would he have wanted me to kiss him anyway? I was _that girl._ The girl who everyone liked, but got tired of quickly. Just like all the girls at my first school had been my best friends, and then pushed me away. Just like my first boyfriend, James, had told me I was the prettiest girl in the world, and then gone out with my friend _John._ And just like Michael, who had told me he had loved me, but then had started sticking it to the girl with the tattoo. But there was one difference here. Once they had broken me, or gotten tired of me, that was it. But he was still sitting here, and he promised that it would be okay. So he was better than all of them. But I still wasn't happy. I wanted more.

"Shh, Kristen. Don't cry. It's gonna be okay," he said, suddenly sounding alarmed. He pulled the arm rest up and then reached his arm around me and pulled me to his side. I went willingly. I tried to tell myself that it was because I didn't have the strength to resist, but I knew the real reason. I wanted to. I wanted him to pull me up against his side, and have him stroking my arms and my back and my hair and my legs and telling me to be quiet and that he was there, like he was doing. No, I didn't want that. I wanted _more._ I wanted him to kiss me, and hold me, to touch every inch of my body and tell me that I was the most beautiful girl in the world. . But I couldn't have any of that. So I curled against his side and he kissed the top of my head, causing heat to shot through me as though I was a live wire. My breath caught in my throat, and I made a sort of hiccupping sound. "Sorry," he said, pulling his lips away from my forehead, and resting his head against the head-rest. I wanted to slap him for saying sorry, but instead I rested my head against his neck and sighed. I felt rather that saw him smile, but before I could say anything, the lights turned off, and the captain announced that he would be playing the in-flight movie, _Twilight._

"Crap," I said, but without any real conviction. I was too calm resting against him, feeling his warmth through the material of our clothes, and feeling the steady beat of his heart.

"Sorry," he said again. "They insisted on playing the movie,"

He tried to push me back onto my seat, and that made me panic, so I said, rather breathlessly, "What are you doing?"

"I'm putting you back, so that you can sleep," he said looking confused.

I looked down at his hand which was resting on my thigh, and was momentarily distracted by how amazingly warm it was through my jeans. But I focused before he could notice, and blushed at what I had to say, "Um, I want to sleep, er, you know… on you – just for now! Cause you're warm and you know, I'm all messed up and stuff, so you can just recline both our chairs and I'll probably move off later," I sounded ridiculous, but I knew that if I was going to have any chance at sleeping, this would be how it would happen. He hesitated for a long time.

"That sounds okay," he said, his voice sounding rough, but I didn't look up, because I didn't want to be disappointed with what I would see on his face. Disgust, most likely. He pushed the chairs down, and pulled the pillows on the floor under our heads, and then rapped me tightly up in the duck-down duvet. I curled up against him again, feeling very safe and warm, thinking that maybe business class wasn't so bad after all.

****

It was about an hour later. He had fallen asleep, and I could feel his warm breath in my hair. Everything was warm, and I was happy. I stared at the enormous screen in front where the cameras were circling me and Rob in a tree. I thought how unfair their relationship was. Bella and Edward. But then I thought about all other famous couples. Romeo and Juliet. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. They were all unfair. But they had each other. Their names would forever be intertwined, and they would always be together, and knowing that that was the prize, they would get through the unfairness, not caring about it. Because they were together. I watched as Rob's hands drifted over the piano, and even though I couldn't hear the music, I felt relaxed, remembering the countless times he had played for me. He stirred slightly in his sleep, and I adjusted my position so as not to bother him, but he pulled me closer so that my body was flush against his, and suddenly all my nerves were on fire and I wanted to scream because my name would never be entwined with his. Just then I saw a teenage girl staring at me in shock, and realized she had recognized me. Great. As wonderful an experience as this movie had been, it was also the reason everyone knew our names. And we both hated that.

I heard her speaking excitedly to her mother, "Mom, look over there! Guess who it is! It's Bella and Edward! No, well, I mean, even better! It's Robert and Kristen!"

I just about fell out of my seat in surprise, but she kept repeating it, until I realized with a jolt that I was wrong. Our names _were_ entwined just as tightly as the characters on screen, who were now arguing in front of the red truck. And for the first time, I felt so happy about being apart of _Twilight_ that I wanted to sing it to the whole world. Not because I was well known, or because it got me good jobs or high paychecks, or even shoots for he best magazines. But because it had ensured that my name would always be followed and connected in everyone's mind, to _his._ And right then, it hit me. The reason that I was not falling through the ground and breaking into little pieces, wasn't him. It was because, in my heart, I believed that I still had a chance at happiness. With him. And I wanted it. I wanted him. And even if he didn't want me the same way, he was here, holding me more tightly than I had ever been held without hurting me, and still it wasn't tight enough for me. But he was here.

I had never been more _okay. _

**End notes: Phew! Well, now that's all cleared up, I just want to say thank you to all the lovely people who have read this story, it really helps me when you give me feedback, positive or otherwise.**

**Also, I just want to point out how much ILU, because I spent about 5 minutes searching for Kstew's mom's real name, AND how long the flight would take, and I've never done that before, so yeah, it was fun :D**

**The next one should come soon enough, cause I'm on holiday now (yay!) and this chapter wasn't really working for me, but it had to be done for the rest of the story to make sense. **

**Oh, and reviews = ^________^**


	4. Call off the Search

**Author's note: Hi everyone! The new chapter is finally here… but I am very sad. This freaky guy reported my story, and I don't know if they're gonna let me stay on FF. (If you're at my journal, then don't worry bout his, it won't affect you) So, I am posting a link to my journal, so that you can check there for updates if I get kicked off :( But, on a happier note, I really like this chapter, and I hope you will too. Also, please bear in mind that I have never been to Italy, so if I got something wrong, then I'm sorry, but I did spend two hours looking up the correct info, but I might have missed something. But, I'll quit rambling now and let you read. **

_**Call off the Search**_

The automatic doors of the train station opened in front of me with a _whoosh._ I stepped outside, the heat hitting me in full force. It was nice to be off the plane, having survived the 14 hour trip to Rome, and then another 3 hours on the train to Siena. As soon as we were out the doors, I dug in my handbag for my little box of cigarettes, gladly lighting one up and taking a drag. Rob laughed next to me lighting up his own, "I don't think that I've ever seen someone do that so quickly, you look like you haven't smoked for months,"

"Shut up," I said, breathing out the smoke, enjoying the way it rolled over my tongue.

I looked around me, trying to catch my first decent glimpse of Italy, but all I could see was the drop-off road, covered in taxis and reunited friends and family. A girl near by around my age, who I recognized from our flight, ran over to her boyfriend, who grabbed her immediately, and kissed her roughly, murmuring something in Italian, I turned away. Rob was looking at his shoes, lost in thought, his cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. I pulled it out of his mouth, startling him, and he looked up at me indignantly. "I wasn't finished with that!"

"Well, you shouldn't be smoking, it's a disgusting habit," I said smiling, taking a long drag from it. I spluttered, spitting it out, "Why the hell are you smoking menthols, they're revolting?"

"Actually, I'm trying to quit," he said, laughing as I coughed again.

"Good luck with that," I said sarcastically, lighting up another of my own.

Suddenly, an old bald man with a shockingly blue suit came up to us. "Escuse me," he said, speaking terribly accented English, "You are Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart, _si_?"

"Yes," I replied exasperated, expecting an autograph or photo request.

"Good. You come with me then," he said, and promptly proceeded to pick up my suitcase, and start walking off.

"Whoa, dude, where the hell do you tgink you're going?" I said, running after him, and grabbing my suitcase back. He looked at me in surprise, as Rob followed, an amused look on his face. "Security," I said, turning to an officer talking on his phone, "This man is trying to steal my luggage,"

The officer looked at me lazily, then turned to the bald man, and spoke to him in Italian. The bald man looked shocked, and started talking very quickly back to the officer, who started shaking with laughter.

"What? What is so funny?" I demanded from them, but the officer kept on laughing, and the bald man continued to look confused. Rob bent down and whispered in my ear. He was trying futilely to curb his laughter, "Kris, um… I don't think that guy was trying to steal your luggage. He's the man who's supposed to take us to the hotel," his laughter tickled my neck, but I was too embarrassed and angry to care about that.

"I'm so sorry," I said, looking at the bald man who was also now smiling at my hilarious episode, "I didn't know that – I'm so sorry!" I said, sounding pathetic.

He smiled and took my suitcase again, "Is okay. People lots make that mistake."

Rob made a choking sound and I glared at him, but then followed the man to a bright blue limousine, and got in the back, watching the man trying to load the bags into the back, as a group of Asian tourists asked Rob for a photo. I ducked my head down, glad that they hadn't seen me. He climbed in while they continued to gush over him. The car started, and we moved slowly through the traffic.

"So, this your first time in Siena?" asked the driver, "I'm Juan, by way." he said smiling at us through the partition.

"Yeah, it's her first time, but I've been here before when I was a little kid," said Rob. "Look out the window," he said to me, and I did. I was met with a breathtaking sit of the city, sprawling out in front of us. The small houses with terracotta roofs made up the majority of the town, but towards the center, I could see the large clock tower and square that the Italian towns were famous for. As we drove into the town, the roads got narrower, and very soon we were driving so close in between buildings, that if I had put my hand out the window, it would have scraped across the walls. We entered a large square, which Juan named the _Piazza del Mercato._ He then continued to tell us a bit about its history, and that it wasn't the main square, but it was well worth a visit if we were looking for something to do. Small shops and bakeries lined its walls, and I spotted a tourist shop selling small Eiffel towers, which was a bit strange, but when I pointed it out to Rob, he merely shrugged and said that the Italians rarely made sense. It was beautiful, I couldn't deny it, and I was so happy that I was finally coming into a foreign country, where I would be able to see more than my hotel room and a bunch of screaming adolescents.

We drove for about half an hour, neither me nor Rob saying very much, and listening to all of Juan's stories. Eventually, we stopped outside a little house, not very different to all the others, and got out. I looked around for a driveway, but there wasn't one. I turned to Juan and asked, "Where do you leave the car while you're not using it?"

He laughed at me and said, "There is small road behind the _kasa_ where we keep cars. I stay next door," he laughed again and turned to Rob, "This one, she ask lot of questions, will make you in big trouble one day."

"Believe me, I know," said Rob, as the two men turned to me laughing. I grimaced, snapping at them, "Well, now that we've all had so much fun laughing at me, can we please go inside,"

But before either of them could reply, a large woman with dark grey hair opened the front door, and snapped something at Juan that I didn't understand. He grumbled something back at her, and then picked up our bags and headed into the house, saying, "This is my darling wife, Magenta."

She smiled broadly at us, and for once it didn't irritate me that a stranger was looking at me as if I had just made their day. Maybe it was because I was already so happy. Or maybe because, unlike the airhostess, she genuinely looked happy to see me, and not thinking about the fat paycheck she would be getting for doing so.

"Come in now so that I can show you your house," she said turning back towards the house. Her English was heavily accented, but much better than her husbands.

She showed us downstairs, which consisted of a sitting room which was filled with cushy chairs that looked old from use and a miniscule television which was mutely playing a program about horse racing. There was a balcony leading off the lounge, but we moved on before we could get a good look. The rest of the floor was made up of a dining room and a kitchen, where I could already smell something cooking, and it felt like this room was constantly in use. Magenta told us that is we needed anything in the kitchen that we mustn't be shy and come and ask her, but would appreciate it if we didn't help ourselves, as she wouldn't know where the food had gone, and would consequently blame it on her husband.

She then led us upstairs, where there were two rooms and a bathroom. Rob picked the brown room, and I was then left with the blue one, which suited me just fine. Magenta left us alone to pack, and told us that supper would be ready in about an hour. I opened my suitcase, and put all my clothes in the dusty closet, cursing my mom for packing a bunch of clothes that I had never seen before, and would rather die than put a lot of them on. When I was finished, I walked over to the window and stared out. I couldn't see anything, except the house on the other side of the road. I watched as a woman cleaning the window seemed to be talking to herself. Suddenly she noticed me and waved, smiling at me. I smiled back and turned away, unsure of what to do with myself. I hadn't really spoken much to Rob since last night on the plane, and I wasn't really sure what to talk about when I was with strangers, so I couldn't talk to our house keepers. I realized that I couldn't stay in my room for the entire holiday, so I made my way downstairs.

Juan was sitting on the couch watching the horse race, shouting at the TV in Italian, the way that Michael used to when he watched baseball. I cringed. I hadn't thought about him for a long time, and didn't really want to just yet, so I went in search of the only cure I had found for my problem. Rob was outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette. He had a beer in his hand, and there was another one on the table. I slipped through the open door, and cracked the lid open, startling him out of one of his many trances.

"Hey," I said, nudging his arm slightly with my elbow and coming to lean against the banister next to him. The view was spectacular. It looked out over what seemed the whole city, and nearby I could see the main square with the huge clock tower sticking out arbitrarily of the flat plateau that the roofs of the city created. I sighed leaning my arm against Rob's, my thoughts of Michael gone completely as I knew they would in his company.

"Thanks," I said, smiling up at him. He looked down at me, the light of the setting sun making his eyes turn greenish-blue.

"For what?" He asked, looking away and bringing the beer up to his lips.

I shrugged, "Everything, I guess. For helping me, staying here, putting up with my nonsense, this…" I said, indicating the view in front of us.

He smiled at me again, his teeth shining in the light, "You're very welcome," he said, putting his arm around me. I put the beer down on the balcony, wrapping both my arms around him and resting my head on his chest. He started humming tunelessly under his breath and I closed my eyes, completely at peace.

We stood like that for a long time; the only movement was Rob's hand lifting the cigarette to and from his mouth, and then putting it out in the stone ashtray.

Magenta called us from inside to come and eat. I pulled myself reluctantly away from him and walked inside, leaving him standing there. I sat down at the table, looking at the enormous amount of food placed out in front of me. Rob followed after a while, talking to Juan about things to do in the area. Magenta then came in carrying a huge pot of pasta which she placed on the table. I dished up some of everything onto my plate, and ate way more than I usually would. Afterwards, there was ice cream from the little café down the road that was Magenta's favorite, and I had to admit that it tasted amazing. It was soft and creamy, and melted quickly, but each flavor was delicious and I couldn't decide which one was the best. Rob and Juan drank a bit too much wine, and at the end of the meal, they were both standing on the balcony shouting at the people who walked past. I spent the rest of the evening in the kitchen helping Magenta clean up, as she complained about the noise that they were making and various other aspects in her life that were disappointing her, most having to do with her husband. But the way she talked about him, laughing at his silly habits, made me realize that she loved him very much, even though he was an annoying pig. This realization made me rather uncomfortable, but she somehow seemed to notice that I had become even more quiet, and turned to criticizing the transport systems of Siena, which was a much easier topic to discuss.

I went upstairs and took a long bath (the house had no shower, unless you counted the one outside in the back garden, but I refused to strip down where people could see me, even after Magenta had said, "The neighbors won't look, and even if they do, it's not like they haven't seen it all, eh?") enjoying the hot water flowing around me, listening to the people walking in the street and the occasional cars. Downstairs I could hear the television on, and I could hear Juan and Magenta arguing about something in Italian, and then I heard them leave the house. I sighed, climbing out of the hot water, and wrapped a towel around myself. I walked out into the passage, and nearly ran headfirst into Rob.

"Careful," he said gruffly, taking me by my shoulders, causing my heart to stutter spasmodically, and moving me around him so that he could get to the stairs.

I stuttered out, "I'm so sorry, I–I thought you were downstairs, or I would never…" I trailed off lamely, feeling like a complete idiot.

"No problem," said Rob turning away quickly, but not fast enough for me to miss him adjusting his jeans. _Oh._ I blushed and scrambled into my room, feeling the heat spreading from my face all over my body. I sat down on my bed and tried to grasp at my uncontrollable thoughts. He thought of me _that_ way. I smiled, despite my embarrassment at my incoherency. _But of course he did, _said a small pessimistic voice in the back of my head, _he just ran into a half naked girl in a tiny passageway, if he hadn't thought of that, you should be worried._

I sighed, not wanting to believe the voice, but I couldn't argue with reason. I pulled on my pajamas and climbed into bed, listening for any sounds coming from downstairs. But all I could hear was the television. So I rolled over, cursing myself for my idiocy, and fell asleep almost instantly.

****

_The window was open in my room. I could feel the cool breeze blowing over me. It was nice, keeping me comfortable in the bed. But suddenly, the covers seemed to disappear, and the wind was freezing me. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and searched for something to hold onto, but my hands came up empty. I couldn't hear anything then, except the screaming gust of wind blowing through the window. I wanted to shut it out, but when I covered my ears, I heard I voice, but it wasn't mine. "You thought you could escape to _Italy_," Michael's voice taunted in my head. "You thought you could get away from me by coming here. You will never get away from me. Anywhere you go, I'll always find you. And Rob? Really Kristen, I thought you were better than that. We both know that you'll just break him like you broke everything else. Like you broke me…"_

"No!" I said, sitting up sharply and knocking my head. I breathed out heavily, realizing it was just a dream. I stared out my window which was blowing the cool air onto me, and quickly got out of bed and shut it, climbing back under the covers before any of the warmth could escape. I curled up in a little ball, holding onto my legs, but sleep evaded me. I heard Rob laugh at something on the TV downstairs, and wanted nothing more than to go down there and see him, just so that I could sleep. But I held myself back, knowing it would just make things worse. Finally, I heard him turn off the TV and start ascending the stairs. He stopped outside my door, and I had to use all my strength not to leap out of the bed and go to him. But I did it. He walked on after a few seconds, and I heard him undressing next door, and climbing into bed. Then there was silence. I listened hard, to see if I could hear a sound of his breathing or anything. Just when I thought he had gone to sleep I heard him groan. But it wasn't a sound of pleasure or irritation. It was a sound of grief. I pulled off the covers quickly, ignoring the voice in the back of my head screaming at me to stop. I stumbled over my shoes in my haste to leave the room, and wrenched the door out of the way, suddenly desperate to see him. I walked into the passageway, and for the second time that evening, bumped into Rob.

"Sorry," I said breathlessly, as he steadied me, holding onto my hands, "I couldn't sleep and…"

"Shh," he interrupted me, "Don't worry about it."

I was going to say more, apologize again, but I was distracted by the way he was looking into my eyes. He was looking at me in a sad, hopeful and persuasive way that made me hot all over, and caused my blood to speed through my system faster than I thought possible. He didn't say anything either, so I smiled looking down and then looking back up into his eyes, and I heard his breath catch slightly. He started walking backwards, pulling me into his room. He pulled me down next to him on the bed and wrapped the blanket around us. He then pulled me against him and continued to look at me, as though he never wanted to look away. I could feel his heart beating almost as fast as mine through his chest, and smelt the wine and smoke on his breath. The warmth that spread over me was irresistible. Eventually I pulled my eyes away from his and leant my head against his neck. He breathed slowly, whispering my name very quietly. But it was enough.

I didn't listen to the voice in my head this time. Because right there, right then, I didn't believe it.

****

I woke up the next morning to the smell of eggs. I lay in the bed, trying to remember how I got there. Just then, Rob popped his head around the door.

"Just finished showering. Breakfast is ready downstairs, so you can get dressed and everything later,"

I sat up groggily, remembering what had happened. I wasn't really sure what to say, so I blurted out the first thing that came into my head, "Where did you shower, there isn't one in the bathroom?" Nice.

Rob smiled though, and answered cockily, "Oh, I used the outdoor shower," and then shut the door on my look of surprise. Now that was something I definitely wanted to see. I smiled, as I pulled on a jacket that was lying on the chair. It smelt of Rob, and that comforted me. I went down and ate breakfast, which consisted of cereal and a delicious Spanish omelet. After we had finished eating, I went upstairs to get dressed, as the others discussed what we could do that day.

I searched through my wardrobe, trying desperately to find some normal concealing clothes that I usually wore. But my mother seemed to have decided that I needed a stylist, and all the clothes were brand new, and all looked ominously short. I pulled out a pair of denim shorts, (which I could see were only about seven inches long) and a white top with a picture of some political hero on it that looked pretty decent. I pulled them on, and stepped into a pair of black flip-flops which were the only shoes that I recognized. I walked downstairs, the shoes slapping against my feet. I met up with Rob and Juan, who then told me our itinerary for the day. Juan then went around the back to fetch the car. Rob stared down at my legs, smiling a little.

"Excuse me, my eyes are up here," I said indignantly, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. I was enjoying the view," he said leering at me.

I scoffed, "Yes, I can see how much you're enjoying it," I said sarcastically. He grimaced at me and turned away in embarrassment. I smiled at my small victory. Just then we heard Juan hooting at us from outside, and Rob stood aside saying sarcastically, "Ladies first,"

"Well get in then," I said smiling again as he grumbled something under his breath and climbed into the car. I followed, suddenly worried that I might have offended him, but he smiled at me as usual, and I calmed down.

God, what was happening to me? I had all of a sudden become a nervous wreck around him. But I couldn't quite regret that as I thought again about last night.

We started off at the _Piazza del Campo_ which was Siena's main square. The huge clock tower stood out on the other side. We wondered around the market stalls, tasting thousands of things that I couldn't even pronounce. We then moved on to the actual clock tower, the _Torre del Mangia, where _a tour guide led us up, prattling away in Italian, whilst Juan tried desperately to translate, but failed to keep up, and after our laughter at him pointing towards a stone bible and saying, "…and this where bell man slept," that he gave up and we merely enjoyed the sights. The view from the top of the tower was amazing though, and I realized just how big the square actually was. Then we stopped off at a café and me and Rob shared a pizza, and I had about ten scoops of _gelato_ ****Author's note: Ice cream** **and we continued on our tour. We then went on quite a drive to the _Castello di Brolio_, which was a manor house with incredible gardens, but we couldn't tell much more about it, as we couldn't speak Italian, and Juan had gotten sick after eating a bad lobster at lunch, so we had once more had to do without his terrible commentary. When we had finished walking around the gardens, we asked the tour guide where a good place to eat was.

'What exactly are you looking for?" she asked, in perfect English.

"We want somewhere that's sort of out of the way. Preferably outside and good music. Money isn't a problem, we just can't seem to find the right place," said Rob, staring at his shoes and mumbling a bit.

"I think I know just the place. It's called _del Gatto_. It used to be an old wine farm that went out of business, and someone bought it recently and renovated the building. They have the most delicious crab pasta, which you must try if you go there. It's about a twenty minute drive from here, but its well worth it. Its good weather at the moment, so all the tables will be outside, and they also have a dance floor I think," she gushed, trying to get it all out and sounding like an advertisement. But Rob smiled encouragingly and said, "That sounds just perfect. If you could just give us the address."

She pulled a pen out and wrote it on a small scrap of paper which she handed to him.

"Enjoy," she said smiling at me, and then turning away to help a mother with two little children.

"Let's go," said Rob, and we made our way back to the car. As it turned out, Juan had heard of the restaurant, and so we left. Rob and I spent the trip discussing what we had seen that day, laughing about all the people we had met and complaining about the tourists who had wanted our photos. I sat facing him across the seat with my feet on his lap. Juan wasn't able to contribute to the conversation, as he was still feeling sick, and when we arrived, he said that he wouldn't be joining us, and gave us the number for a cab company that we could use to get back. We waved goodbye and went inside.

We were greeted by a short fat man who showed us to a table outside. All the tables were placed in a stone courtyard, with part of it clear to make up a dance floor. The view looked over the garden, and across the wine lands. We were seated, and both ordered the crab pasta, smiling again. As we were having desert, chocolate mouse for me, Irish coffee for Rob, a short young woman with curly dark hair went up to the microphone and introduced herself in a strong British accent as Katie Melua. I was surprised, as I knew she was a pretty well known singer. But her music was calm and relaxed, and I felt myself dozing off slightly. When we were finished, Rob pulled me out of my chair, and dragged me onto the dance floor. I could dance, but I preferred not to, and she was playing a petty upbeat song at the moment, so as Rob flung me about the dance floor, I complained for a while, but then let go and decided to enjoy myself. The song came to an end, and everyone clapped.

"Thank you, thank you!" she said, smiling at everyone. "The next song I'm going to play is one of my personal favorites. It's called: _Call off the Search,"_

A few members of the audience cheered, and I smiled up at Rob. "I love this song,"

"Me too," he said softly, smiling down at me as the first bar started. And then I remembered. It was a slow song. I swallowed as he wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me closer to him, as I locked my hands behind his neck. We swayed like that for a while, as the notes of the song drifted around us. I looked up at him, and saw that the look that he had worn last night in the passage was back in place. Except that now he looked very persuasive, my heart beat and my breathing kicked up. He pulled me even closer, something that I had thought was impossible, and I felt his breath fan all over my face. I smiled tentatively up at him and pulled my hand onto his face to stroke the lines under his eyes. We stopped dancing and he lifted his hands to cradle my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. He then traced my lips with his finger, and I felt them open, and it was as though he was melting me and burning me, but in a _very _good way. He put the tip of his finger slightly into my mouth, and I shivered pressing myself even harder against him leaning towards his face, I whispered softly, "Rob" meaning to say more. But he pulled my face up towards his and pressed his lips to mine, with a soft moan of defeat. I had never felt anything like I did right then. He pressed my top lip in between his slightly and nibbled it. I let out a sharp breath and pulled myself towards him, crushing my mouth against his. He opened it slightly, and I gently licked his bottom lip. He kissed me hard then, crushing my lips in between his. This felt very different to when we were filming. For one we had had to be careful, because of our characters. And back then he had been kissing Bella, and I had made sure, as I always did when I was acting, to keep myself detached. But now he was kissing me. Me, Kristen Stewart. I felt all the blood pulsing through my veins, and I responded to him with just as much enthusiasm. And I wanted more, as my mind started to wonder. Taking him back to his room. We were all alone. I had him for the whole night to myself. We could do whatever we wanted. And the rest of the week. And after that…

But then he pulled away. No, not pulled away, he pushed me away. I tried to pull myself out of the trance, but I couldn't think straight. I spluttered "Did I do something wrong?" thinking about the kiss and not remembering one moment of it that had been bad.

"No," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he looked away from me, "I'm so sorry, Kristen. I shouldn't have done that,"

"Done what?" I asked, suddenly thinking that I didn't want to have this conversation.

"I shouldn't have kissed you. It was wrong, I- I just shouldn't. God, I didn't want it to be this way," he kicked the ground and tugged at his hair. _Told you so,_ said the little voice in my head. The heat inside me charged, now emitting anger instead of pleasure. I glared at him, furious that he could try and ruin one of the most perfect moments of my life.

"Well then maybe you should have thought of that earlier, before you brought me on this goddamn holiday! Everything would have been okay then, _we _would still be okay. And I could have gotten on with my life. But you had to screw that up didn't you." I felt horrible as I said those words, but his face turned from irritation to absolute rage.

"_You_ would have been fine! For Christ's sake, you were a fucking nutcase. They should have tied you up in a straight jacket. But I didn't want anything to happen to you, so I tried to _help._ I guess that was my mistake," he shot back at me, but quietly as the people around us were starting to stare.

"Yeah, it was. So now you can just go back to how you were before and leave me alone to pick up the pieces. That's what everybody does to me, but hey, I guess I'll just survive or something." I said stepping away from his livid face, "Like you said, _it'll always be okay._" I turned away, walking across the dance floor to our table, where I dropped a wad of euros and walked over to the payphone to call a cab. But not before I saw his face crumple from its mask of anger, and become absolutely stricken. The lyrics of the song came to an end.

_Now that I've found you,_

_I'll call off the Search._

I sat down on a bench to wait. Dropping my head into my hands, thinking that this time, it would never be okay again.

****

The ride home in the cab was quiet. I sat as far as possible from Rob in the limited space of the backseat. Once or twice, he turned to talk to me, but he would stop and continue fiddling with a loose string on his sweater. I stared out the window, not really seeing the dark landscapes flashing by. This was a different place to me now. Not the beautiful shining haven that I had thought, but a dark, sinister place where I felt lost and alone. I hated it. Finally, the car stopped and we got out. Rob turned to talk to me, but I turned around and walked into the house, not bothering to hold the door open for him. I stepped quickly up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I paused outside my room, thinking that I really wanted to be alone. But I wanted to sleep more, so I walked straight into Rob's room without speaking. He said nothing, merely raising his eyebrows as I kicked my shoes off and climbed into the bed, fully dressed. I heard him moving around, but I didn't turn to look. I felt his weight as he lay down on the bed, and then he turned the light off, and all was quiet.

I lay there fuming, for what seemed like a never ending moment. I could hear from his breathing that he too was awake, but I didn't say anything. I almost laughed at how different this was to last night, but then I thought of the way he had held onto me, and the anger started to drift away, a terrible yearning to touch him taking its place. I thought of all the things we had done that day, and how happy I'd been, and I was taken over by sadness that seemed to crush me into the bed with an irresistible force. I couldn't do this. I couldn't pretend anymore. Not to myself, and _definitely_ not to him. I would have to tell him how I felt, even though I knew that he didn't feel the same way. But I hoped that he at least cared for me enough to stay my friend, and help me until I had gotten over this dark period of my life. Because now that I was being honest with myself, I realized that I was falling helplessly in love with him, and if I didn't put a stop to it soon, it would only hurt me more. And I also realized that it wasn't his fault that my life was crashing down in front of me. He had just tried to hold it up, after Michael had broken it down, but in the process, he had just damaged me more. But I was still fixable.

I rolled over and placed my hand on his. He didn't open his eyes, but he stiffened his hand, and for a moment, I thought he was going to push me away. But he relaxed and twined his fingers through mine, tracing circles on the back of my hand. I smiled closing my eyes, thinking that I would talk to him in the morning. For now, I just needed to pretend.

****

I woke up with the bright light of the sun shining straight into my eyes. I rolled out of bed, dreading the conversation that I would have to have. I walked down stairs sleepily, and into the dining room, it was empty, but Magenta soon came bustling in with a bowl of cereal for me. I looked around, worried about where he had gone.

"Um, Magenta… Do you know where Rob is?' I asked, stirring my spoon around the cereal.

"No. He left with Juan pretty early this morning. But he left you this note," she said indicating a piece of folded paper on the table that I hadn't noticed, with an air that indicated that she had read it already. I opened it, suddenly wishing that I had stayed in bed.

_Kristen,_

_I've gone out with Juan. Can't see you today, sorry._

_Rob._

I placed it down on the table, still looking down, and suddenly struggling to breathe. Magenta started rambling immediately about men, and how you could never trust them. I interrupted her, saying that I would be going out, and that I would see her at supper. I walked up the stairs slowly thinking about his words, _I can't see you today, sorry._ I knew what that meant. He was still angry with me over last night, as he should be. It still hurt to think that he couldn't bear to be anywhere around me though. I sifted through my cupboard, not really noticing what I was putting on, until I looked into the full-length mirror. I barely saw the pale dark haired girl in the simple white dress staring at me in the glass. All I could see was his face last night as I had turned away from him.

I trudged back downstairs, walking through the front door, telling Magenta that I would be spending the day at the square. I walked unseeingly through the streets and market stalls, all the excitement of yesterday gone completely. All I could do was replay the argument last night, which left me feeling numb and furious at myself for my stupidity. I sat down on the edge of the fountain in the square and cried silently, looking at the patterns in the water, and wishing that I could wash my memory away with them. Eventually, I realized that the sun was setting. I had been sitting there the whole day. I stood up stiffly, and made my way to the closest café, more out of something to do than actual hunger. I ordered a beer, (being of age here this was not a problem) and sipped it quietly, whilst all the people around me laughed and called out to each other. Just then, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I whipped around, because I knew whose hand that was.

"Kristen," said Rob, hugging me tightly to him. I held myself rigid for a second, but then relaxed, and I started crying against his jacket.

"Rob…. I'm s-so s-s-sorry," I gasped unable to stop myself, "I didn't mean any of those things last night, I was just angry, and-"

"Shh," he interrupted me rocking me slowly back and forth, "I'm the one who's sorry. I acted horribly, and I'm going to make it up to you. Come on, I'm not worth crying over," he said softly, wiping my tears away. He took my hand and started to lead me away, but I stopped and tugged at his arm.

"Rob, there's something I have to tell you," I started, but he interrupted me again, this time putting a finger to my lips.

"There'll be plenty of time for that just now. But come on, I want to show you something," he said, smiling at the end, and pulling me forward.

"What is it?" I asked, slightly curious now that he seemed to have forgiven me.

He laughed smiling at me again, "You'll see!"

Great. I'd heard that one before.

**End notes: I really hoped you have liked this chapter; it took me a REALLY long time to write. I'm going back to school tomorrow, so the updates might not come as quickly. **

**As a side note, I've added some pictures of the places that they went to, and there's also a link to the song, "Call off the Search", which is definitely worth listening to. To see those, go here to my journal. **

**Last thing, I promise: I would like to say an ENORMOUS thank you to all the people who have left reviews, it really helps motivate me. I sat down with my beloved calculator, and added all the reviews that I have gotten all over the place, and the total is 32, which makes me sooooo happy, because I didn't expect any. So please tell me what you have thought so far, it really helps motivate me :D Link to my journal: (No "www.", and take out all the spaces, cause the stupid thingie won't work otherwise. If this still doesn't work, then you can get to my journal via my profile) carla304. livejournal. com/ 4901. html **


	5. Movement

**Author's note: Hey everyone! Look, I know its been a **_**long**_** time since I last updated, but my life is pretty fail atm, and I am studying like a mad thing for exams, so the updates will still be slow for a while, but please bare with me. I don't want to say too much more about this chapter, so just read on. Also, I had no idea what to call this chapter, so I stuck with "movement". **

**Disclaimer: I do not know (or own) any of the characters in this story, be they real or a figment of my imagination. No personal infringement is intended by writing this story. Neither do I own "Your song" by Elton John. Basically, I have nothing, so please leave me alone :( **

_**Movement:**_

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked for the third time, staring impatiently out the cab window. Rob laughed softy under his breath.

"Fine, I'll tell you," he said, turning my face towards him with the tip of his finger, "My dad bought this place years ago when we came here, but seeing as we've never come back since then, he rents it out for weddings, and parties and stuff. That's what I was out doing today. I had to organize this with him, and then go and get some other things sorted out."

"Oh," I said quietly, looking down again, a feeling of absolute relief flooding through me. "I thought you didn't want to see me after what happened last night."

Rob paused for a long time, before tilting my chin up again. "I told you, I forgave you for behaving the way you did. It was fully understandable after what I did," he said, his voice dropping at the end, shifting his eyes quickly out the window.

I was suddenly filled with confusion. "No, that's not what I meant," I said quickly, hating myself for having to say the words out loud, but knowing at the same time that I had to, if things were going to back to normal. "I thought you were angry at me for kissing you,"

He laughed, "Kristen, I think you'll find that that was my fault. I _shouldn't _have kissed you. Not while you're still, you know…" he trailed off, looking down at his hands with a brooding expression. I was still confused.

"But I thought you were angry with _me_ for the kiss because you didn't feel the same way. And that's totally okay with me. It won't be weird or anything, we'll –"

"Wait," he said interrupting me, looking up first with puzzlement, which I'm sure mimicked mine, which turned into a sort of awe, "What do you mean, "don't feel the same way"?"

I looked at him, realization breaking over me. I opened my mouth to say something, though not really sure what. But before I could do anything more than smile at him open mouthed like a deranged goldfish, the cab driver called back something in Italian, and I realized we had stopped. Rob handed the driver the money, and then turned to open the door. I climbed out as quickly as I could; walking round the car and grabbing Rob's hand, suddenly feeling a strong need to hold onto him. He seemed just as eager, gripping my hand tightly and pulling me after him as he walked down a small alleyway. My curiosity flared again, and I looked inquiringly up at Rob, "Seriously, where are you taking me?"

He didn't look at me, and continued to pull me along, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and I could see that my irritation was amusing to him, and normally this would have bothered me, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to touch the dimple on his cheek that appeared whenever he smiled. We didn't walk for very long, before we encountered a flight of stairs that looked so old and worn down, I would normally have been worried about crashing down them. But I was distracted by the amazing view that now lay before me. We were standing on the top of a small cliff, the stairs leading down to a sandy, white beach, and the sea seemed to stretch out forever.

"Wow," was all I could choke out, still unable to take my eyes off it. "Your dad owns this place?"

"Yeah," he said, looking down the stairway. "Well, technically, he only owns the little beach down there, but the view is pretty spectacular."

I just nodded, smiling quickly at him before looking back out.

"Come, this isn't the best part," he said, leading me towards the stairs. I had been right about them being slippery, and Rob being even more uncoordinated than I was, kept slipping and grabbing onto me, nearly pulling me down with him twice, but the terrifying climb to the bottom was definitely worth it.

The view was even more incredible from the beach, as you couldn't see anything else from down there, except the sea, the cliff face, and the rocks that created a fortress on either side. The beach was quite big, and in the middle, there was a burnt circle of sand where fires were obviously held often. There was a huge quilty-blanket type thing laid on the sand, with a few pillows and a cooler box. Rob's guitar case lay next to a small pile of towels. I smiled at him, walking over to the blanket.

"Oh my god, did you do all this today?" I said turning to find him still standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah. I hope its okay. I just really wanted to apologize for calling you crazy. And some other things." He said smiling sheepishly down at his shoes.

"Are you kidding me? This is perfect. Seriously. Apology fully and totally accepted," I said flopping down onto the blanket. "And stop standing around like a loser, come sit here." I wasn't too sure what I was doing, but I had always followed my instincts, and right then I felt pretty confident I was doing the right thing.

He walked over cautiously, and stood awkwardly over me. I pulled him down next to me, and he sat down quickly, banging his head against mine.

"Ow," he said laughing, breaking the tension. He rolled over and dug around in the cooler bag, producing two beers and a large sub-sandwich. I took half, suddenly realizing that I hadn't eaten the whole day, and scarped it down. I then sat back against the pillows and stared out at the sea, sipping the beer and enjoying the bitter, slightly salty taste. Rob leant next to me and rested his head on mine. I relaxed and leaned against him, watching a few birds darting around in the last rays of the setting sun. I felt Rob's weight shift as he turned to look at me. He lightly stroked his fingers up and down my arm, drawing small circles on my skin. It was one of the nicest sensations I had ever felt, incredibly relaxing, but at the same time, it made the blood shoot through my arm, and I was suddenly over conscious of the fact that we were _completely_ alone.

"So you really think its okay? It's not too much for you, or anything?" he said softly, smiling up at me through his lashes, the last remnants of sunlight turning his eyes a clear gold-greenish color.

"I told you, this is perfect. I like that you've organized everything. And it's not too much, it's you. Thank god you didn't, like, hire a string quartet and bring a bottle of champagne and get all tuxedo-ed up on me. Then I'm pretty sure I'd have to kill you."

He laughed, and flicked my chin, "You know, you've just described the stereotypical "perfect guy."'

"So? This is perfect to me. Because it's not perfect. I prefer things that have more meaning in them, like having you play a song that _you_ wrote on _your_ guitar, instead of having a bunch of drunk bastards playing "The way you look tonight" on some cheap-ass guitar they probably stole from a thrift shop. To have you bringing my favorite beer, that I _know_ they don't sell in Italy for us tonight, and a sandwich that you probably only remembered to pick up about two minutes ago, and probably comes from some dodge café downtown, by the way it tasted, is one thousand times better than a gourmet meal prepared by the best chefs in Italy, that gets made for hundreds of people every day. That's my definition of perfect."

Rob stared at me for a while in awe, before saying roughly, "Kristen Stewart, I think you might just be _my_ definition of perfect."

I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up, and hiding my face in his shoulder. I really wanted to tell him I thought the same of him, but I couldn't bring myself to interrupt this moment quite yet. We sat like that for a long time, the sun gradually fading away over the sea, until the whole world was swallowed in darkness.

Eventually, Rob got up and started getting a fire going. I sat watching him work, smiling whenever he looked over at me. When he was finished, he stood up and looked at me for a while, his eyes lingering on mine for a long time, before slowly trailing their way over my body, not like most men who seemed to be admiring the prospect, but more as though he was trying to memorize every curve and inch of me. I had never felt more vulnerable than I did in that moment, as if I were standing naked in front of a million people, but he smiled, his eyes looking back into mine and he walked over slowly, and sat down next to me, never breaking the eye contact. He leant down, leaning the side of his face against mine, and said in a soft but uneven voice, "You look _incredible_ in that dress,"

I felt every muscle in my body loosen, and I pulled back to look him in the eyes. He stared at me for a long time, and even though I wanted nothing more to lean forward and touch my lips to his, I didn't, because the sensations running through me were ones that I had never experienced before.

The lust I recognized immediately, although I had never felt it as strongly as I did then, the heat rippling through me in an almost painful way. But there were other things that were completely new to me; for instance, I never wanted him to look away. I could sit there for a long time and just look at him, and have him look at me, as though I was the most incredible sight he had ever seen.

And it hit me. It hit me like a wrecking ball hits an unexpecting house. Except that when it did, I didn't feel the mind-shattering pain that the house would feel. I just felt like something had exploded inside of me, and was seeping a strange but incredible substance through me.

I had fallen in love with him.

This man, who I had shared so much with over the past year. This man who I had promised myself, my boyfriend, my friends, my family, my employees, and the _entire_ world I would never care for as more than a friend. And it wasn't as I had thought last night. This wasn't just something that I could blow away and forget about, like my feelings for Michael, which tore slightly at my mind even then to think about, but that I knew were a thing of the past. This was something much, much more.

Because reflected in his eyes, which I now felt sure I could draw from memory, were the same feelings that had confused me for so long. So I couldn't look away.

He pulled away too soon, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair as if to steady himself, before reaching over me and pulling the guitar out of its case. He pulled it onto his lap and started to play a song that I recognized. It was one of his songs, and I lay back down looking up at the stars that were starting to shine through the darkness, listening to the notes stretching round the silence, and filling me with such a bitter-sweet feeling that I closed my eyes, and drifted, thinking of how much I had changed over the past week. The song came to an end, and he started to play another one that I recognized, but it wasn't one of his. I sat up, looking him in the eye. "I remember this," I said softly, drawing a pattern in the sand next to me. "_Your Song _by Elton John. We sang that in Tokyo at that karaoke place."

He nodded, smiling and started to sing. I watched his hands pluck the keys, listening to the words, and suddenly understanding them in a better light. I thought back to that night when we had been singing, and smiled, remembering how hard I had been telling myself not to get too caught up in the emotion that I was feeling. How I had brushed away my feelings for Rob even then, thinking that they were merely a reflection of my character's, and in any case, I had someone else. Neither of which were true anymore.

"And you can tell everybody,

That this is your song.

It may be quite simple but,

Now that it's done,

I hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind,

That I've put down in words;

How wonderful life is

Now you're in the world."

The song drifted to an end, and he looked up at me smiling.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, and after a moments hesitation, he complied.

"I don't mean to bring back bad memories, but most of this song is quite good…" he said starting up a new tune that I recognized in an instant.

He was playing _Call off the Search_ from last night, but he changed it a little to suit his voice. As he played it, the previous evening flashed back in front of my eyes: Him pulling me onto the dance floor; pulling me up against his body; looking into my eyes; his fingers on my lips; his mouth pressed against mine.

Him pushing me away. Me shouting those awful words.

I gasped as a tear rolled down my cheek, and he looked up, his fingers slipping on the guitar strings. "Sorry," he said, looking away from me down to the guitar again. "I can't remember how it ends." His face crumpled slightly, as he remembered what had happened the night before.

And that's what did it for me. His face, falling into that dark hole again, the one I remembered vividly from the night before. And I promised that I would never be the cause of making his face look like that again.

"I know how it should have ended," I said quietly, my voice suddenly sharp and clear, as I pulled myself up onto my knees and leant towards him. He looked up at me with a curious look, his eyes boring into mine for a second before I leaned over and pressed my mouth to his softly. I pulled away slightly, leaning my forehead against his. He stared at me with a look of slight wonder. I leant down again, pressing my lips to his harder this time, lengthening the kiss, but he pushed me away, looking at me sternly in the eyes.

"Are you sure this is what you want. Because I don't want to force anything on you, not if you're not ready. I could –"

But I pushed a finger against his lips, silencing him. I nodded slowly, smiling slightly and pulled my finger away, trailing my hands down his arms and gripping his hands in mine. I stood up slowly, holding his eyes in mine, and gently pulled him up after me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with all the force that I had in me, before releasing him, except for one hand, and pulling him over to the waters edge.

I let go of him and stepped slightly into the water. There weren't any large waves here, just the pushing and pulling motion of the water. I waded out until it reached above my knees, pulling at the edges of my dress. I looked up at the sky in front of me, breathing in deeply, and turned around to face him. He was still standing at the edge, watching me curiously, his face lit up with something I had never seen there before. He paused, seeming to read my eyes, then waded out towards me, holding out his hand which I took hold of immediately. I pulled him up against me and kissed him again, hard. At first he seemed resistant, as though he was still undecided, and I moaned, frustrated, as I pushed my self against him, standing on my toes to get closer. The groan seemed to do it, because he immediately seemed to spark alive and kissed me with just as much enthusiasm, lifting me up slightly with his hands around my waist. His mouth moved down my throat, burning every point that it touched, and he ran it over my collar bone, slowly from side to side, before moving down my chest. I gasped slightly, pulling his lips back up to mine and kissing him with as much strength as possible. He breathed in sharply, and suddenly pulled me down roughly so that he landed on his back in the water, and I landed on top of him. However, it didn't have the result either of us wanted, as the water sprayed up over both of us causing me to yell in shock as its cool wetness slashed onto my burning skin. He laughed, breaking away from me, and rolled over, so that we were ling side by side, with me slightly under him. He smiled down at me again, pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. I brushed my lips over his hand and he smiled again, tracing their outline with his fingers.

He leant down and pressed his mouth against mine. "So you're really sure," he said softly against my lips, his breath brushing against my skin. I pulled back, opening my eyes.

"Rob, I don't want anything more than I want this," I said, looking into his eyes and running my hand slowly down his chest and over his shirt, which clung tightly to his skin with water. His groaned as my hand reached the zip of his jeans and pulled me slowly but forcefully towards him. He covered my mouth with his, still keeping his eyes locked in mine, and I felt the slow burning inside me shoot through every inch of my body. I ran my hands over his shirt, slowly undoing each button, still looking into his eyes, which were now burning uncontrollably. I pulled the shirt off his arms, leaving it in the water and gripped the tops of his shoulders as tightly as I could, wrapping my leg around his waist. But my arm slipped, and he fell on top of me, banging my head against his painfully.

"Ow!" I yelped out, and he stood up, pulling me with him. He held my hands and pulled me deeper into the water, until he came to a large rock on the side. He turned and pressed me against it. His hands moved up my back, until he found the zipper of the dress. He pulled it down slowly, trailing his fingers over my skin. He then brushed his hands up to my shoulders, where he hooked them into the straps of my dress, and pulled it down my arms. He peeled the wet material off my skin, and I kicked it off my legs, wrapping them around his waist. He moved his lips from my mouth and started trailing them over my throat, pulling my bra straps off my shoulders.

I turned my face into his hair, breathing in his scent. The water lapped over my skin, strangely contrasting the heat that filled me and surrounded me. I could feel his heart beating hard and fast against my skin and I pulled myself closer to him, desperate for more contact. I felt him smile against my neck, and felt his hands unclip the clasp on my bra. I shook it off and pressed against him, the water suddenly turning warm all over. He moved his mouth down my chest, and kissed me, slow and hard. I gasped and whispered out suddenly, "God, I love you."

He stopped.

I felt him lift his head up slowly, and I opened my heavy lidded eyes. He was staring at me in shock, and looked as though he wasn't quite sure he'd heard me.

"What?" he said, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against mine.

I looked down, suddenly wishing that I had kept my mouth shut. Leave it to me to ruin the most incredible sex I had ever had, and now probably would never have. "You heard what I said," I whispered, equally out of breath. I paused, and he didn't move for a time that seemed to stretch on for hours, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. "I just – I didn't know until recently and..." I said, trailing off lamely. He still hadn't said anything "Look, you don't have to say it back or anything. I shouldn't have. I wasn't thinking I'm sorr-"

"Don't." he said cutting me off. I looked up then, because his tone sounded almost angry. "Don't even _think_ about taking it back."

"What do you mean?" I said, suddenly feeling a slight hope burning again deep inside me.

He spoke clearly, taking hold of my face, and looking my straight in the eyes. "I mean, Kristen Stewart, that I love you. I have for a _very_ long time. I never even dreamed that you would ever say it back. And I'm still not quite sure that you did." I small smile that I recognized crept onto his face as he said the last part, it was a smile I knew from whenever I laughed at one of his jokes, or congratulated him in front of a camera, or even when I admitted that he was right.

Victory.

I smiled back at him, and breathed in to steady my voice. "I love you. I want you. Now."

The smile broke out even bigger, and he pulled me against him with what could only be called violence, and I laughed as he kissed me harder than he ever had before. He pushed me against the rocks, and they grazed my back in a way that should have been painful, but at that moment, I didn't care. I ran my fingers through his hair, and locked my legs around him even tighter. His hands moved down to my knees, and then grazed them up my thighs, causing me to gasp and grab onto his arms.

The sea continued moving around us, causing amazing friction all over my skin, as he quickly discarded with the rest of our clothes. He pushed me up against the rock again, and then he was everywhere. I felt him enter me and cried out slightly, and his breathing knocked up to gasps, mine following shortly after. The heat that had been building slowly inside of me was shooting through me, until I was sure it would burn me. But it kept growing and growing, and suddenly it exploded inside of me, causing me to cry out in pleasure. I felt Rob moan against my lips, but the heat did not stop. It grew again, as he pushed me again and again against the rock and finally it gave out, like a thousand fireworks pulsing through my nerves. I heard him breathe out heavily for the last time, and I rested my head against his shoulder closing my eyes, suddenly exhausted, and pressed my lips against his burning skin, thinking how wrong I had before been on the beach.

_This _was perfect.

****

I watched the firelight dance over the skin on my hands, as he held them up in front of us. He stroked the lines that my veins created, twirling the rings round and round. Neither of us had said anything when we had eventually come back on the beach. He was now lying next to me on the blanket, his warmth radiating onto me.

He turned my hand over and continued to observe every detail, and I turned to look at him. He turned to me and smiled, and he looked more relaxed and happy than I had ever seen him. I liked that I had done that. Just as I had made him cry out in the water.

I cleared my throat, wanting to hear his voice again, just to assure myself of reality, as I was sure that I would come crashing down from this heaven at any moment, and be lying in my bed at home. "What are you thinking?" I said, and he twitched slightly, as if he had gotten a fright at the sound of my voice.

"Just that I can't believe that I'm lucky enough to be lying here, with you next to me," he said, smiling sadly at me.

I pulled my hand out of his, and gently brushed my fingers against his face. He brought his hand up to hold it there, stroking my palm slowly. "I'm here. I'm not going _anywhere._" I smiled then, changing my tone, and pulling myself closer to him. "After what you just did to me, you'll probably never get rid of me."

He raised his eyebrows, his smile turning playful.

"Was I any good?" he said, but under the cockiness, I could tell that this question really had been bothering him.

I looked him in the eyes, my face turning serious. "Rob. You were incredible."

I could see he was about to argue with me, tell me I was lying or something along those lines, but I put my fingers against his lips and pulled my face level with his. I took my finger off his mouth and kissed him, slowly but earnestly. I ran my fingers over his chin and down his neck, and continued to run them down his chest, feeling his heart rate increase again. "That was the best sex I have ever had," I said, enunciating each word with a kiss. I moved away from him, and smiled at the dazed expression on his face.

"And I came twice. Or is that not enough for you. I can carry on," I said smiling suggestively.

He smiled back, "I will remember that later, you know." He said, now running his hand down my chest, and tracing patterns against my skin.

We lay there for a long time, and he started playing with my fingers again. I watched his hands move over mine, and suddenly thought of something as he twisted a silver ring round my finger.

"Michael gave me that ring," I said without thinking. He paused for a millisecond, and I saw him cringe a little, but he continued playing with the rings on my other hand.

"Wait," I said, pulling my hands away from his. I pulled the ring off my finger, and sat up, lifting my arm up to throw it. But his hand covered mine.

"Don't do that, Kristen. You're not ready. You don't have to prove anything to me." His voice was calm, but I could detect the sadness underneath it.

I nodded, "You're right," I said, "I'm not ready to do that. And I don't _have_ to prove anything to you. But I _want _to do this."

I dropped Michael's ring on the sand next to me, and pulled the ring that Rob had given me off my finger where it rested above Nikki's, and pushed it onto the empty space that Michael's had left. "This one fits better."

He looked at me sadly, brushing his fingers over my lips. "Thank you," he said simply.

He stared at me for a long while, seeming to look for something in my eyes.

"Now what are you thinking?" I said exasperated after a while, causing him to smile.

"I still don't think I deserve you," he said looking as though he wished it wasn't true.

I sighed, wishing that I could take away the pain and the doubt, but I knew he'd never listen if I argued. I stared back at him wistfully. "Look I'm not going to argue with you now," I said softly, "But whether you deserve me or not, is irrelevant. I'm here, and I _want _to be here. I'll probably want to be here for a _very_ long time. And it's not because you're my friend. And it's not because of the media. And it's not just because of the amazing sex, although that definitely scored a few points. And it's not because you do or don't deserve me. It's just because this is right. It has been right from the moment I met you. _You _were the one I knew I could fall in love with, even if at the time I believed it would just be acting. You stood out in those auditions to me, and only now I realize now its because we are supposed to be with each other. I have never felt like this before. I know that. And I couldn't be happier than I am right now. This morning when I thought you didn't want to see me, I was horrified. So believe me, I want to be here. I want to be with you. I. Want. You. Always. So will you shut up now?"

He smiled, pulling me against him, and I closed my eyes, exhausted from all that I had been through that day.

He kissed the top of my head, and whispered softly in my ear, "I know that, Kristen. That's why it's so hard to believe."

I flicked him slightly, and he laughed, resting his head against mine.

The fire gave one last desperate crackle, and died.

**End notes: Okay, I have never written anything like that before, so feedback is appreciated. This chapter was kindof the (super cheesy moment coming) "meadow scene, *cringe* of this story, as it was the one that popped into my head first. **

**Now, at this point I could be a nice person, and leave everyone happy and running off into the sunset. But then it wouldn't be much of a story, so don't think that this has ended here. When I first started writing this, it was just me messing around, as I have been writing for myself since the day my pre-school teacher handed me a pencil, but then I decided to post it. So I never expected **_**anyone**_** to read, or let alone review this story, so I would just like to say a HUGE thanks to all that have commented so far. **

**Anyway, hope to bring the next update to you soon, and have a great week. **


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